


rising when we fall

by ShanleenKinnJaskey



Series: Tell Me Again Why I Feel This Way [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Feels, Ballroom Dancing, Bullying, C'mon guys just kiss already, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roller Coaster, F/F, F/M, Fangirling Characters, Flashbacks, For a Friend, Genderbending, Hurt/Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Murder aftermath, Oh God Yes, PTSD!Alfred, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Suspense, USUK - Freeform, USUK USUK USUK USUK IT'S SO BLOODY PERFECT, attempted suicide, cute! Feli, gerita - Freeform, get with the bloody shipping program, like seriously, oblivious! Spamano, spamano - Freeform, stepfather!Francis, this should be it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-02-24 21:58:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2597870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShanleenKinnJaskey/pseuds/ShanleenKinnJaskey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred and Arthur are roommates at a university. They are just normal kids until Edward, Arthur's estranged dad, comes back into the picture and kills Elizabeth, Arthur's mother. While dealing with the aftereffects of his mother's death, Arthur also has to wrangle his feelings for Alfred, his best friend.<br/>At the same time, Feliciano Vargas, another student at the university who is bullied due to his homosexuality. The only person he can turn to is Ludwig, his kind German boyfriend.<br/>Switches between the four main characters' POVs.<br/>(Title may change)</p><p>"Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall."<br/>-Confucius</p><p>Warnings for PTSD, bullying, suicidal thoughts/ attempted suicide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. and the walls kept tumbling down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theprinceschamberlain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprinceschamberlain/gifts), [aricasuntoast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aricasuntoast/gifts), [TheGoliathBeetle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoliathBeetle/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Arthur vs. W Academy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2116041) by [aricasuntoast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aricasuntoast/pseuds/aricasuntoast). 



> I'm absolute crud at slow build, so most couples do not take too long to get together. However, one couple takes agonizingly long. No spoilers, though, so I won't specify which. Have fun reading!
> 
>  
> 
> For all you Spamano shippers, chapters 13 & 14 shall be the Spamano-centric ones. Hold on, I'll post them soon!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred receives a phone call from his brother and finds out that Arthur's mother has been shot. He hurries over to help, but he may get there too late...
> 
> Title is from "Pompeii" by Bastille.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I've been working really hard on this story and I'd really appreciate it if people commented and told me if I'm doing things right or wrong. I'm open to criticism (in fact, I welcome it), and I'm grateful for the kudos I've already gotten. Thanks to everyone who's read my stories already. Hope you'll enjoy this one as well.

_"You look down on me, but you don't look down on me at all._

_You smile and laugh, and I feel the love you have for me._

_I feel like we're going somewhere._

_We're on to something good here, and we're going to make it after all."_

_-Relient K,_ Pressing On

 

_"Carry on my wayward son_

_There'll be peace when you are done_

_Lay your weary head to rest_

_Don't you cry no more."_

_-Kansas,_ Carry On My Wayward Son

 

**Alfred F. Jones**

**Present Day**

 

I'm lounging on the sofa, my boots propped up on the coffee table with the TV on. It's a few days before Christmas, and I'm playing video games on the Xbox. It's just another Saturday, or so I think.

My phone rings. I pick it up, expecting it to be my mother telling me that the Francis' relatives are coming down for the break. Instead, it's my half brother Mattie.

"Hey, what's up, dude?" I answer casually, shooting down another zombie. This game is getting kind of old- maybe I'll try out one of my World War II shooting games next.

"Alfred," He says, his voice flooded with worry, "It's the Kirklands. They're in trouble."

My heart begins to race, my blood beginning to boil with the thought of someone messing with my roommate Artie and his sweet family. "Tell me what happened," I demand.

"Remember how Arthur's mom left that man Edward when he was seven?" Mattie asks, and my breath quickens.

"Yeah," I reply, not liking where this is going.

"Well, he came back. He went crazy and shot Victoria. I called the ambulance, but Peter and Arthur are in shock and Alicia is crying hysterically." Alicia is Victoria's Italian wife, and she's actually quite nice.

Within fifteen seconds I'm down the stairs, out the door, and have my car turned on. I hit the speaker phone button on my phone, toss it into the passenger seat, and floor the gas. "I'm on my way, Matthew," I shout as I speed down the road, "You guys have got to keep her alive. Where did he shoot her?" I'm taking an anatomy course in order to be a doctor for when I go into space, and I've learned enough that I know I've got to try to keep Mattie from falling into hysterics- that would just make the situation worse.

"Right below the left breastbone," He replies, his voice beginning to tremble.

Damn it. I've only been in college for a year and a half, but I've taken Anatomy 101. Victoria is not going to survive the night, but I can't tell Mattie and Artie that. They'll freak out, and that's the last thing we need.

"Just lightly press a towel to her shoulder and wait for me," I say, already knowing that she won't be alive when I get there.

"Okay, Alfred," Mattie says, and I can tell he's trying his hardest to hold it together for the Kirklands. I'm so proud of him for putting on a brave face in order to keep the rest of them calm- he's got an inner strength to him that everyone else overlooks.

"I'll see you there, Mattie," I say, and then click the END CALL button on my smartphone. I reach over with my right hand, keeping my left on the steering wheel, and pop open the glove compartment. I pull out my handgun, ready with a few bullets in the chamber. _God bless those founding fathers_ , I think as I tuck it into the pocket of my leather jacket. It leaves a slight bulge, but nothing too noticeable.

 _I'm coming to save ya, Artie,_  I think, and rev the gas a little more.

 

I storm into Artie's house, pulling the handgun out of my pocket. Someone's left the door open, and I barge in without knocking. I'm immediately assaulted with the smell of gunpowder and the sound of crying. I run down the hallway to the kitchen, and I find Victoria on the floor, her head cradled in Alicia's lap. Someone has closed Victoria's eyes. Alicia's makeup is smeared, her cheeks glistening with tears, and Victoria's blood stains her pristine white blazer. I've never seen the normally optimistic Italian woman cry before, and the sight of it floors me.

Peter, Artie's twelve-year-old brother, is sitting against the wall with his arms wrapped around his knees and a glassy look in his eyes. Blood is splattered all over him, even though he's not wounded. He slowly rocks back and forth, out of it all. Mattie has an arm around his shoulders. My brother will always be the first person to try and help someone else; he's kind of amazing like that.

And then, of course, there is Artie. Well, technically his name is Arthur, but he gave up trying to stop me calling him by his nickname a long time ago. Artie's been my roommate since the beginning of this school year and he's pretty cool. He's leaning against their bar, the right side of his face bruised black and blue. His emerald eyes are brimming with tears and he looks lost. I've seen many different sides of him before- cheerful, thoughtful, drunk, unimpressed (That's what he's usually like in public)- but never like this. He looks lost, like he's surrounded by fog and shadows and will never find home again.

A surge of anger runs through me. How could anyone do this to such a great family? How could anyone walk in here, kill one of the nicest women in the world, ruin this family's lives, and tear such a deep hole out of their hearts? It would have taken a mind more twisted than anything I can imagine to commit such horrors.

The shooter's clearly gone so I tuck away my handgun and walk over to Artie. I pull him into a tight embrace, his short fair-haired head against my shoulder, and let him cry unabashedly over the loss of his mother. For some reason I don't cry. My eyes stay perfectly dry as I hold Artie. I feel ashamed that I can summon up no tears for Victoria Kirkland, but then I realize that helping her family get through this is what she would have wanted most.

I stare out over the top of Artie's head and lock gazes with Mattie. I can see that just like Artie, the shaking in his shoulders dying down, Peter is slowly coming back to himself. I dip my head the slightest bit in Alicia's direction, asking a silent question. Matthew nods, and extracts his arm from around the little kid. He takes his jacket off and wraps it around Peter's shoulders, then walks over and gently pulls Alicia out from Victoria's body. He takes the tablecloth from the table and wordlessly drapes it over Victoria's body, then picks up a trembling Alicia and carries her over to the sofa. Mattie's indispensable as a brother and friend, really, no matter what anyone says about him.

Then I turn back to thinking about my Artie. I remember back when I first met Artie. He'd been so much more himself then- sure, he'd been in that sort of unimpressed, can't-faze-me sort of mood, but as I soon learned, that was normal.

 

**The Day Before Sophomore Year Began**

 

 _I walk into my room, sling my backpack off, and fall back onto the bed. I plug in my ear buds and wait for the roommate that my friend Yao Wang, the RA, promised would be moving in today. My old roommate had to move away, so I'm getting a new one today, the day before sophomore year begins. I hum along with the tune of my favorite song. Even though I love all kinds of new pop music and country music is my soul, my favorite song has been_ Viva la Vida  _ever since I first heard it.  I close my eyes, letting the music wash over me._

 _Suddenly I hear a_ thump,  _and open my eyes to find a middle-aged woman in a creme Italian suit, still pretty despite her age, and the back of a blond haired young man who is bent over, unloading a box of books onto his half of the bookshelf. He's wearing a dark green waist coat, black skinny jeans, and a small silver hoop in one ear. He looks vaguely familiar._

 _I pull the ear buds out of my ears. "Hey, man! Nice to meet you! My name is-" My voice falters as he turns, and I find a rather handsome face. He has sharp, angular features and large eyebrows that perch above piercing green eyes. He's wearing a white button-down shirt, but the top button is undone, with a black tie loosely knotted around his neck. With the skinny jeans, British waistcoat, earring, and Union-Jack patterned high tops, it is the perfectly fashionable combination of punk and gentleman._ _Suddenly I am_ very  _self conscious of the simple jeans, sneakers, and old Coldplay t-shirt I have on._

_You see, girls aren't really my type, if you know what I mean, and when I first see my new roommate I can't deny that my heartbeat quickens slightly._

_"-Alfred F. Jones," I finish lamely._

_He arches an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes, then holds out his hand to shake. "I'm Arthur Kirkland," he says, a distinctly British lilt to his voice. His hand slips out of mine as he gestures to the kind-looking woman carrying a bin full of what looks like paperback novels. "This is Alicia di Angelo. She's my stepmother."_

_"It's great to meet ya, ma'am," I say, my southern accent shining through._

_"It's nice to meet you as well,_ giovane _," she says._ Interesting, _I think,_ she's Italian.

_I can't stop myself from blurting out, "Do you happen to know anyone named Lovino Vargas? He's a buddy o' mine."_

_Arthur chuckles, a good, hearty sound. "Do I know Lovino Vargas?" He asks, "He's my step-cousin! He's one of the sons of Alicia's sister."_

_I gape at him. "The Vargas twins are your cousins?"_

_"Step-cousins, technically, but yes," Arthur replies, "They're an...interesting bunch." The look in his eyes tells me that he's been to at least one of their family 'meetings'._

_I grin. "I think we'll get along just well, the two of us."_

 

**Arthur Kirkland**

**Present Day**

 

My body is wracked by sobs, my shoulders shaking and my cheeks wet, but I can't stop. Normally I'm not like this, but the shock of my mother's death has gripped me, turning my body into something I can't control, and I can't do anything but cry into Alfred's shoulder. I don't even register the fact that I'm being pressed against Alfred's perfectly tanned and sculpted shoulders, as I've been dreaming about a lot lately. Instead, I just let him hold me, his warm touch the only thing keeping me from falling off the edge into oblivion.

As my sobs die down, I see Matthew out of the corner of my eye. He's taking the tablecloth and draping it over my mother's body. I choke a bit on that thought. It's longer Victoria, my living, breathing mother who sang me to sleep when I was little and still had time to tell me a story even after a long day at work, but a dead, lifeless corpse devoid of all spirit. My mother may have been a bit strict and uptight, but she was one of the nicest people in the world.  _No,_ I think,  _this isn't possible._ I won't accept it.

"Alfred?" I say raggedly, the effort it takes to drag that one shaky word out over the lump in my throat nearly sending me to the floor in a dead faint.

"Yes, Artie?" He replies. I can't even summon up enough strength to protest against him calling me that.

"Please stay here tonight," I ask. I need his strength and his self-confidence tonight like I've never needed it before.

"Of course, Artie," He says, patting me lightly on the back. That's why I love him (though I'd never tell him that because I value our friendship too much)- he'll do anything for a friend. Even though sometimes he's loud and obnoxious, the exact opposite of me, he's one of the best friends a guy could ask for.

Alfred steps back, releasing me from his embrace.  _"No,"_ I want to say,  _"Don't let go. I need you."_ Before I can say anything, he wraps an arm around my waist. My stomach drops, his touch inflaming a feeling somewhere in my chest. "Here," he says, "I'll help you upstairs, dude. You'll feel better if you get some rest, and since you're in shock you won't be moving too well." 

 _If I'm in shock, then why does it feel like a veil has been lifted from the world, that I'm finally processing everything clearly?_ I think,  _Do most people get blurry vision and decreased thinking instead when someone they loved dies?_ But I still let Arthur take me up the stairs, and guide me to lay down on my bed. He covers me up with an old comforter and goes to leave. "Please don't go, Alfred!" I cry out raggedly.

He nods without objecting, and sits down in a chair next to the bed. "Thank you," I whisper, and close my eyes. I tiredly reach out for his hand and find his calloused, warm fingers. I clutch it tightly, my only tether to the world I used to live in, and fall asleep holding his hand, the only logical thing left for my tired, sorrowful, grief-ridden brain to do.

 

**Three Hours Later**

 

 **To** : Alfred

 **From** : Lovi

**Get to St. Anne's Hospital. Now.**

 

 **To** : Lovi

 **From** : Alfred

**were having a bit of a situation. whats the matter?**

 

 **To** : Alfred

 **From** : Lovi

**It's Feli. Punctured lung. Dammit, just get here quickly!**

 

 **To** : Lovi

 **From** : Alfred

**artie and i are on our way. b there in 5.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victoria Kirkland (female England) is the mother of Arthur Kirkland (England). When Arthur was a baby she was married to Edward (Britannia). He was abusive, and she left him in order after the birth of Peter (Sealand) to save her children from his wrath. She moved to America, where she met Alicia di Angelo (female Italy), whom she ended up marrying.
> 
> Alfred F. Jones (America) is Arthur's roommate, and Matthew Williams (Canada) is his half brother. They share the same birth mother, but while Francis Bonnefoy (France) is Matthew's father, no one knows who Alfred's father is. Francis has essentially adopted Alfred as his own son.


	2. deep into the darkness peering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovino discovers that his homosexual brother has been hiding the fact that he's been bullied by his classmates, and swears to help however he can...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe.

_"In my heart will be where I will keep this despair_

_'Till the tears all dry up and finally stop!"_

_-Ouran High School Host Club,_ Shissou

 

_"You could be my luck_

_Even if the sky is falling down_

_I know that we'll be safe and sound..."_

_-Capital Cities,_ Safe and Sound

 

**Feliciano**

I sit on the bench outside of school, trying not to cry from the pain. I wince as I brush a bruise on my stomach while pulling my phone out of my pocket. I pull up Lovi's phone number and call him, raising the phone up to my ear with a grimace.

"Lovi, I need a ride," I say.

"Why," he barks, "Did you get left at the bar again?"

I swallow hard, forcing back tears. " _No,"_ I want to say,  _"I got beat up by those jerks again."_ But I don't, because I don't want my brother to worry about me. He has enough on his plate already.

"Yeah," I say, my head throbbing where I'd been punched in the face. "Is Ludwig there?"

"Your idiot boyfriend? Yeah, he's waiting for you," Lovi says. "For some reason he was worried about you when you@ didn't show up, though I told him you were at the bar."

I smile, then wince because of the pain. Ludwig's really kind, though most people don't realize it because he acts so tough, and he's only person who knows about the bruises and the bullies who cause them. He's always there for me.

"Can you bring him with you?" I ask, trying to keep my voice from cracking with the pain. I hear Lovi begin grumbling, and desperately add, " _Please?"_

The sounds on the other end pause. "Sure, Feli," Lovi says, and his voice sounds a bit warmer, a bit more concerned- decidedly un-Lovi like. "I'll be there in ten minutes." Then he hangs up.

I sigh in relief, sliding my phone back into my pocket. I can go home, take a shower, and wash the horrors of the day off. A breeze blows, and I shiver. They stole my jacket- a new one my aunt Alicia just bought for me, what a waste- and it's getting really cold out. I cross my arms across my chest, trying to keep warm. It's not cold enough for my breath to turn to fog, but the cold still cuts through my thin t-shirt, seeping into my bones.

I sit there, my bruises throbbing, and hunch down to wait for my brother. I have no idea how I'll explain my missing jacket, but I'll come up with something; I've become quite good at that lately. 

***

Ten minutes late Lovi drives up in front of the gas station, and I notice a bruise blooming around my eye in the windows' reflective surface. It's a nice large one, all different mottled shades of blue, black, and violet- a real beauty this time.

Lovi yanks open the door and jumps out of the car, running toward me. I barely have time to prepare before he scoops me up and hugs me. I can't contain my gasp of agony, and he quickly lets go. I see the tears in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me, _fratello_?" He asked roughly, and I see that I should have told him much earlier, "I've been thinking that you were geting wasted at the bar and this whole time you've had to go through this fucking torture."

Ludwig got out of the car on his side, and I see the mixture of guilt and relief on his face. "I'm sorry, Feli," He says, "He forced me to tell him. He could hear zhe pain in your voice and, despite vhat you may zhink, he really does care about you."

" _Mi fratello_ , I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry," I say.

"That's the most stupid answer I've ever heard, fratello," he says angrily. Then he stops, and looks down at his feet in a humble, thoroughly un-Lovi like way. Then he continues, his voice softer, "You know you can come to me with anything, right? If you're being hurt I want to know." His voice cracks. "You're my little brother, Feli. I'd do anything before I'd let someone hurt you."

Then he looks back up at me, an angry fire filling his eyes. "Tell me who the bastards are, Feli. Let me go after them."

"I just want to go home, Lovi," I say tiredly. I step toward the car and cry out in pain- my ankle was twisted earlier when William (one of the bullies) stepped on it. Ludwig scoops me up without a word and takes me to the car. I bury my head in his warm chest, trying to hold back tears as the sound of his heartbeat thumps in my ears. 

I can feel someone draping his jacket over my back, and since I know that it can't be Ludwig, it must have been Lovi. I smile, the slightest movement, as warmth fills me. I know that my brother will always be there for me.

Then I hear a sickening crack, and I taste something sharp and wet in my mouth. Black zooms in on my vision, and I hear Lovi's terrified shouting as if from far away. "Get him to the hospital!" I hear someone shout, my brain getting fuzzier and fuzzier. " _What's happening?"_ I want to ask, but I can't get my mouth to work.

I hear sirens, and feel a seat vibrating beneath me...

The smell of blood fills my nostrils, and thickness fills my mouth...

Everything is getting darker and murkier...

Everything's dark, and in this oblivion I find myself realizing that the sharp taste in my mouth was blood. I think I'm going to die. Dear God above, I don't want to die...

Flickering memories fill my head- broken, swollen moments snatched by time to return to me in my hour of darkness.

_Ludwig and I's first kiss, warm, passionate, and amazing._

_Alfred starting a food fight that ended with pasta all over my face._

_Arthur and I stopping at Barnes and Noble and ending up buying the store's entire collection of sonic screwdrivers._

And then I hear my brother's voice calling my name, yelling at me to wake up, and I try to pull out of the tangled soup of memories. But I can't, and I have to let go of his voice and sink back into darkness. The memories stop, and it's finally just me alone in the peaceful darkness.

 

**Flatline.**

**A long, continuous beep.**

**A heart stops, and a brother cries, leaning on the shoulder of a former enemy.**

**Then a thump, and a pause, and a short, louder beep.**

**The brother looks up, and his ally in this distress chokes back a small sound.**

**Then another thump, and another.**

**The boy on the operating table, the one who previously had a punctured lung, breathes.**

**It is a faint, hoarse sound, but it is the greatest music in the world to the two people waiting for him.**

**The brother finally breathes as well, not realizing he had been holding it back.**

**The ally's eyes fill with tears that he had been trying to hold back, but they are tears of relief.**

**The man they love is going to live.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> William is totally made up. No one you know, so don't worry. 
> 
> Also, 'Mi fratello' is Italian for 'my brother'.
> 
> You could be my luck  
> Even if the sky is falling down  
> I know that we'll be safe and sound


	3. there's beauty and there's danger here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feliciano wakes up in the hospital and finds all of his best friends there, including Alfred, who tells him how Feli almost died...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from "The Frozen Heart" from the movie Frozen.
> 
> Warning: There is a bit of violence and blood in this chapter.
> 
> Ok, I'm sorry about where this story has gone and how depressing it's getting. I promise that you'll get a bit of happiness and fluff at the end of the next chapter. Just hang in there, my friend- we shall make it through together.

_"Adversity draws men together and produces beauty and harmony in life's relationships,_

_just as the cold of winter produces ice-flowers on the window-panes, which vanish with the warmth."_

_-Sren Aaby Kierkegaard_

 

_"Living beyond your years_

 

_Acting out all their fears_

_You feel it in your chest_

_Your hands protect the flames_

_From the wild winds around you..."_

_-OneRepublic,_ Icarus

 

**Feliciano**

 

When I wake up, I find myself in a hospital bed, IVs coming out of my arms, and an oxygen mask over my face. I blink groggily-I'm a bit dizzy- and look out at the people waiting in the room. There's Ludwig in an armchair next to my bed, asleep, and Lovi snoring next to him in a little foldout couch-bench-thing. They each have a hand on the other's shoulder, as if to comfort each other. I smile weakly at the sight, and hear the sound of someone closing a book. I look over and find Arthur and Alfred on my other side, sitting next to each other. Arthur's asleep, tear tracks running down his face, and Alfred is tucking a comic book under his chair.

He grins when he sees me awake. "They've been here since you were admitted three days ago," Alfred says, pointing to Ludwig and Lovi, "They both refused to leave your side. You should've seen Lovi fight the nurse to let Ludwig stay overnight. They've really bonded while waiting for you to wake up. You know they both love you so much, dude- you're really lucky." A warmth fills my chest, but this time it's the nice kind, not a painful one I blacked out because of.

"What about you guys?" I rasp, my voice quiet and dry. "Why has Arthur been crying?"

Alfred frowns, sadness filling his gaze. It's unsettling to see him without a brilliant grin on his face. "We came as soon as we heard. I think Artie's worry for you overwhelmed his grief."

"Grief?" I ask, confused.

Alfred grimaced. "I'm not supposed to upset you. Doctor's orders."

Normally I would have pursued that question to its answer, but I was too tired. "Okay," I said, and closed my eyes. "So tell me something else- why am I here? What happened?"

"Punctured lung. One of your ribs was fractured from violent, repeated blows by sharp, blunt force, and when Ludwig picked you up the rib broke completely and punctured your lung." I opened my eyes at the pause, and found that Alfred had fixed his blue eyes on me. "Ludwig told us everything about what has been happening. Why didn't you tell us? The four of us are your best friends in the world, dude- you can tell us  _anything._ We could have protected you." He broke my gaze, looking down at the ground. His voice cracked. "You nearly  _ **died**_. Your heart stopped during the surgery. Do you think that Artie could have handled both his mom and one of his best friends dying within a few hours of each other?" The passionate look of concern and anger his face was touching. I knew that look was for Artie.

"You love him, don't you?" I ask quietly. I don't need to specify who I'm talking about- he already knows.

He collapses back into his chair, his face buried into his hands. His cheeks are red. "Yes," he whispers, "Damn it all,  _yes._ I love him, Feli, but I'm pretty sure he likes someone else. Probably Lovi."

" _No,"_ I want to say, " _He's in love with you. I've seen it in his eyes."_ But instead, I say, "I just have a feeling that the two of them isn't gonna happen. Don't tell Lovi I said it, but we all know he's still hooked on Toni."

Alfred looked up over the tops of his glasses, his eyes hopeful. "Really?" he asks, his tone slightly surprised.

"Yeah," I say, and cough, my throat dry. Alfred immediately snaps into motion, fussing over me and apologizing profusely for getting me worked up. I smile. It's interesting seeing the normally cool, popular Alfred acting like a mother hen.

 

**Arthur**

 

I'm woken up by the sound of someone bustling about. I open my eyes to find that it's Alfred, and that Feli's awake. "Bloody hell, Alfred!" I cry, "Why didn't you wake me up?" The horrific events of the past weekend touch the edge of my mind- I push them away, locking them away behind a wall before they can overtake me. I can't break down- I have to be okay for Feli's sake. I know what he's gone through, and it's much worse than anything I've ever had to handle.

"C'mon, Artie, don't wake up the grumps over there!" Alfred scolds playfully, acting like his usual cool self. He's doing a much better job than I could ever do of acting so normal in such horrible circumstances.

"Bloody hell, Alfred, I can do whatever I want!" I say, "And don't call me Artie. You know I don't like it!"

He pulls up the covers on Feli, tucking him in- I feel a slight stirring of jealousy in my heart, just like normal- then walks over and ruffles my hair. That slight stirring in my chest explodes into a full-blown blast of heat, coursing through my veins in a rush of energy. "But you're so cute when you're angry, Artie!" Alfred protests cutely, and I melt inside.

Before anything else can happen, though, Lovi wakes up. "Stop squabbling, you fucking idiots," He says, his normal morning grumpiness kicking in. I know he normally gets much worse, but then he notices Italy's awake. "Feli!" he cries, the emotions running through him evident, his voice cracking with relief, "You're awake!" He runs over and hugs Feli carefully, showing a level of gentleness I thought impossible coming from him. He looks over his shoulder and yells, "Ludwig! Wake up, you potato bastard, Feli's awake!"

Ludwig grumbles, slowly waking up, but as he does he sees Feli awake and rushes over. You know, you've got to hand it to him- he genuinely cares about Feli. They both do, Ludwig and Lovi. I smile, and see Alfred doing the same out of the corner of my eye. My heartbeat quickens. I wish I had the same connection with Alfred that Ludwig and Feli have. I know Alfred cares about me, but I want him to love me as Ludwig does Feli. Maybe that's selfish of me, and I'm fine with waiting, but I _want_ Alfred.

But the thing is, I'm not worthy of him the way Feli is of Ludwig. Feli let those boys bully him because they'd said they would come after Ludwig, Alfred, Arthur, and I- all admitted homosexuals- if he didn't keep quiet. He'd told Ludwig, of course, who tried to help him, but Feli wouldn't have it. He took those beatings in silence, with Ludwig helping clean up and take care of him, and look what had happened to him. What had I ever done that had shown that level of devotion to the people I loved? I'd stood there, useless, held up by Matthew, as Edward shot my mother. Memories of that night burst through the dam I'd been holding them behind as Ludwig kisses Feli's cheek.

 

**Three Nights Before**

 

 _Someone knocks on the front door. "I'll get it!" Peter shouts, running down the stairs. I don't answer, engrossed in reading_ Harry Potter  _for what has got to be the gajillionth time. Matthew sits on the armchair across from me, reading manga. Kiku, his Japanese roommate, got him stuck on it. Actually, the Harry Potter book I'm reading was originally his._

_Then I hear a blood-curdling scream. I drop my book and run downstairs, taking the steps two at a time. "PETER!" I scream. Though my little brother does annoy me, I do care about him._

_I find my mother with her arms around my screaming brother, her long blond hair blowing slightly in the breeze that comes from the open door. There, hulking over her with a gun in his hand, is the man from long-ago buried nightmares. Images flash before my eyes of that man punching my mother while I cried helplessly in the corner. Well, I'm not that helpless anymore._

_"Hey!" I shout, "Get away from my family!"_

_He looks up at me, and I see bloodshot eyes in the shadows under the brim of his hat._ He's drunk,  _I realize with horror,_ Just like he was all those years ago.

_"Get out of my way," he growls, turning the gun to point the barrel at me. But I'm sure he won't do that. Not even he is that horrible._

_I step forward, and say, "Stop, Edward, and put the gun down. I know you won't do it."_

_But instead, he abruptly swings forward and hits my check with the butt of the gun. Black blooms on the edges of my vision and I fall back. Before I hit the ground I'm caught from behind. I look up and see Matthew through the blurriness, who came downstairs after me._

_The ominous click of a gun echoes through the front hall. I turn, the pain in my head exploding into agony, to see him pull the trigger. Time slows down as the bullet flies out of the chamber and into my mother's head. Blood splatters everywhere, all over Peter and the floor. He screams._

_Alicia runs into the room in time to see Edward turn and leave in a drunken haze. She sees her dead wife on the floor, one stepson covered in her blood while the other is bruised near the eye, being slowly moved to the counter by his friend, and she stops in her tracks, an expression of horror forming on her mouth._

_I prop myself up on the edge of the counter. I feel like I'm falling, like the shadows and fears that have haunted me since childhood are closing in. Matthew pulls out his cellphone and begins talking to someone. Somewhere through the shock, deep in the recesses of my mind, I register Matthew saying Alfred's name. Oh, so that's who he's talking to. Not that it matters- Mother is dead, and a shadow has been cast across the world like her blood across the hallway._

_Matthew tells Alfred that she's still alive, I guess to keep up his hope, but I already know the truth. Though I may not have much experience with the human body, I know that my mother's not going to survive a wound that close to the heart. Even if she isn't dead yet, she'll die before Alfred or the  ambulance get here._

_And I can do nothing, just stand there and watch the scene play over and over in my mind as I wait for Alfred and the ambulance to arrive._


	4. lucky I'm in love with my best friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is about to commit suicide when Alfred comes in and stops him, resulting in a much awaited kiss...
> 
> Title is from "Lucky" by Jason Mraz.

_"Through the thunder and the rain_

_Together we fall together we fly away_

_Hold me closely_

_You are my one and only..."_

_-Queen of Hearts,_ We The Kings

 

_"Sometimes I wish for falling_

_Wish for the release_

_Wish for falling through the air_

_To give me some relief_

_Because falling's not the problem_

_When I'm falling I'm in peace_

_It's only when I hit the ground_

_It causes all the grief."_

_-Florence and the Machine,_ Falling

 

**Alfred**

 

Antonio walks into the room. He's just as oblivious as Feli can be sometimes, and I know this because Lovi's face lights up when he enters the room and Antonio doesn't even notice it. He just goes over to Feli, a smashed bouquet of flowers in his hand, and sticks it in the vase on the bedside table.

"Feli, you're awake!" Antonio says.

"Yeah, no thanks to you," I hear Lovino say.

"I have to go to the loo," Arthur says. His voice sounds a bit choked up, but when I look over he has a set expression on his face, one that betrays no emotion. His face is a façade set in stone, unchangeable and not moving.

"Okay, dude," I say, but I'm the only one who even notices his absence. I sit back to watch the cheerful group over at the bed. I smile. It's great to have such loving friends. After a minute, my phone beeps, signaling a text. I take it out of my pocket and look at it.

 **To** : Alfred

 **From** : Arthur 

**So I guess this is it, then. My last letter. That's what you do when you decide to end things, right?**

**Alfred, I'm going to end it. I couldn't stop my mom from dying, and Feli couldn't even trust me enough to tell me that he was being hurt. I'm useless and no one needs me. It's time to take that final leap.**

**Goodbye, Alfred. I'm truly sorry.**

I stand up, jam my phone in my pocket, and run out the door. I run up to the nearest nurse. "What's the quickest way to the roof?" I shout urgently.

She points to a nearby staircase, eyes wide with bewilderment. We're only two levels from the top. I run to the stairs and take them two at a time. I'm suddenly thankful for my three years of high school football- there's never been a more important time than now to be fast.

I burst onto the roof and a flash of lightning illuminates the sight of the Arthur standing at the edge, arms splayed at his sides as he prepares himself to jump. His face is a cracked mosaic of worry and fear, and I know Artie's still in there, not yet completely ready to let go.

Running forward, I slam into Arthur and knock him to the ground. He lays there, his body shaking. Now that I'm closer up I can see that his façade has crumbled, that mixed in with the rain on his face are tears. The strength has left him, his body trembling from the cold and wet of the rain. "Let me go, Alfred," he sobs, "I'm useless. I can't do anything to save anybody. You'd all be better off without me."

"No you're not, Artie!" I cry, kneeling down next to him. "Your family needs you. You're the one who's got to keep them going. Your friends need you, too- you're our anchor, the person who keeps us all from making bad choices. Well, now it's my turn to stop you! You can't do this. Dude, _I_ need you!"

Arthur's mouth forms a perfect O. "You...need... _me_?" He asks, a tone of surprise in his voice as he sits up, curling his knees up to his chest. The falling rain plasters his hair to his head, his bright emerald green eyes sparkling like the falling raindrops.

 _Dammit_ , I think, _he knows_. I mean, it's great that I've snapped him out of his depression, but did it have to be my greatest secret that did the job?

He laughs and I lean back. Is he out of his freaking mind? He just nearly jumped off the roof of a building, and now he's laughing? Then he stops laughing and locks eyes with me, his green with my blue. "I need you too, Alfred."

It's my turn to be surprised. "What do you mean, _you need me_?" I ask.

He smiles, getting up. "This is what I mean." He leans forward, closes his eyes, and kisses me, his warm lips against mine. A surge of energy courses through me, lighting up my nerves and making me feel as if I'm truly alive, as if my whole life until now I've spent half-asleep and only now am I fully awake.

After a few seconds he leans back, a happy gleam in his eyes. "Sorry, Alfred," he says, "I just had to do that. I've gone through a lot this weekend, and I just had to do something right. I don't care if you share the same feelings, but-"

I cut him off by leaning in and giving him a passionate kiss of my own. This one lasts longer, tastes better. I have been waiting for this moment for months- forever, it seems, and I feel wonderful. I eventually break it off. "I love you, Artie," I say.

"I love you too, Alfred." Arthur says. For once I'm glad I stayed patient. I'm never patient- except on this one thing. I realize now that I shouldn't have been afraid of Artie rejecting me and me losing his friendship. Even if he hadn't like- _like-_ d me, Artie isn't the type to do such a thing.

I'm in heaven. I remember back when I was still pining after him, when I thought he liked someone else (namely Lovi). I did have a good reason to, though- he went to Mariano's with Lovi for the College's Date Night. We all had to go out with someone, and I later found out that the two of them had only gone as friends.

 

**September 1st of that Year**

 

_I walk into the room and find Arthur all ready for his date. He's dressed casual-formal in his classic green waistcoat, nice white slacks, a black collared shirt, a white tie closely knotted at the throat, and a nice pair of polished black boots. I wish he was going with me instead of Lovi, but it can't be helped. I'm taking Elizabeta Hedervary, my dearest female friend, because her boyfriend Roderich is home with a cold and she agreed to help me out and have dinner with me._

_"Good luck on your date with Lovi," I said gruffly, trying not to sound jealous. I'm in an old black leather jacket that Matthew gave me for my birthday two years ago (I really need a new one), a white button-down shirt, and my best pair of jeans. There's no way I could look as good as Arthur no matter how hard I tried._

_"You too, Alfred," Arthur replies, straightening his tie. There's a strange, faraway look in his eyes._

_I nod in response, biting my lip to keep from talking. I turn my back on him, pretending to straighten my sheets (Which I'd never do normally in a million years) then let him walk out. Once the sound of his footsteps fades away, I punch the pillow over and over in anger. I always tend to blurt out whatever's on my mind, but when it comes to Arthur that's the one thing I can't say. Why can't I just admit my feelings about this one subject?_

_I stand there, panting hard and absorbed in my thoughts when I hear a knock on the door. I turn around and find Elizabeta looking gorgeous. If I was into girls I would have been blown away, but I'm still able to appreciate her beauty. She is in an off-the-shoulder scarlet dress over top of a pair of black leggings. Her hair is pulled up in an intricate up-do tied off with the ribbon Roderich gave her. "You ready to go?" She asks, smiling._

_"Heck yeah," I say, picking my jaw off of the floor. Mentally I face-palm myself. Like I said, I tend to blurt things out without thinking._

_Her smile swiftly transforms into a smirk."Come on, you big goofball," She says, and grabs my arm. She drags me out and down the dorm hallway to the front door. I let her, laughing and letting all thoughts of Arthur fly out of my head. I don't need regret clouding my head tonight- I'm going to have a good time and forget about everything._

 

I snap back into the present, where I am standing on a rooftop, my hand in Arthur's, the rain falling down around us like in a movie. "Let's head back down," I say. He nods, this stupid grin on his face. I have the same one on my face as well, and I'm making no effort to change it.

We head back down the stairs, hand in hand, and I feel like nothing is wrong in the world. Feli will get better and we'll all get past this mess together. Everything is perfect. With my friends by my side I can take on the world.

As I was soon to find out, the world didn't exactly share the same feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I kind of wrote this to tell people how I feel about suicide. It's just wrong. I'm not going to say that you'll go to hell or any other cliché-sounding drivel, but I just want you to know that the world needs you. Everything that's stuck in your head- good or bad, light or dark- the world needs to hear it. Express yourself whatever way you want to (I write), but make sure what you do is create, not destroy. Write, paint, knit, sculpt, do math, whatever it is you want, but DON'T do violence. Answer me this- what does it do for you? How the heck does it improve the world to destroy the very thing that is you?  
> Answer me that, and you've done the impossible, because there is NO FREAKING WAY to answer that question and be telling the truth.  
> So, from the bottom of my heart, I love you guys. And you all have someone out there who, like Alfred, will love you and tell you that you are unique, and special, and that you should never do anything like what Arthur attempted.  
> And they'd be telling the truth.
> 
> Leave a comment if you agree.


	5. i am barely breathing and i can't find the air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything seems fine, but then Alfred starts getting flashbacks, hinting at a traumatic experience in his past...  
> NOT DONE YET!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from "Barely Breathing" by Duncan Sheik.

__"I don't quite know_ _

_How to say_

_How I feel  
_

_  
Those three words_

_Are said too much_

_They're not enough..."_

_-Snow Patrol,_ Chasing Cars

 

_"I know that I've got issues_

_But you're pretty messed up too_

_Either way I found out_

_I'm nothing without you..."_

_-Kelly Clarkson_ , My Life Would Suck Without You

 

**Ludwig**

 

Arthur and Alfred walk in, holding hands. Arthur has a slightly embarrassed look on his face (even after thirteen years of living in the states he still has that British sense of propriety), while Alfred is grinning ear to ear, his smile more genuine and happy than I've ever seen it before.

They walk over and sit down in the chairs they occupied before. After a few moments of us staring at them, Antonio cries, "Finally! We've been waiting forever!"

Feli laughs, and I can't resist the smallest smile. I have to admit that even I have noticed how the two of them look at them look at each other.

I turn back to Feli, and lovingly stroke his hair. He smiles sweetly up at me. I love Feli, no matter what other people say about him. He may have his faults (he's a bit oblivious and he has the strangest affection for pasta), but he's sweet, kind, and intelligent. He's so innocent, though, and I just want to wrap his small form up in my arms and cuddle him.

Of course I wouldn't ever do that, however. I've always been mindful of others' personal space, especially when they're injured. And by all definitions Feli is definitely injured.

"Here, Ludwig," Feli says, "Can you turn on the TV? I want to watch the Christmas special of  _Doctor Who."_ He laughs, "I woke up just in time, didn't I?"

I see what he's trying to do- stop our talking so we can all have some peace. I suddenly feel a bit selfish. He's just woken up and we haven't given him a moment to breathe.

"Sure, Feli," I reply. I pick up the remote and turn the channel to BBC America, then plop back down into my armchair. Lovi and Antonio follow suit, sitting down awkwardly onto the sofa. Now if only there was a way to get them together, then our set of friends would all be happy.

It turns out that this year's Christmas special won't be on for another hour, so we content ourselves with reruns. Today it's Christopher Eccleston's, my favorite Doctor. As I watch him trying to figure out the problem of the Gelth, I think about how this British TV show has managed to suck in people of so many different backgrounds. Sorry, my mind often goes weird places when I'm watching TV.

Then, during a commercial, I hear a gasp from the other side of the room. I look over to see Alfred, ashen-faced, eyes wide with terror and mouth open in a constant string of mumbled words. Then they start to grow louder, and I catch the question, "Where is Mommy?" 

Arthur shakes Alfred's shoulder, trying to get him to snap out of it. "Alfred!" He says, worry evident in his voice.

What the hell is going on with Alfred?

 

  **Alfred**

 

The flashback hits me like a tsunami. Unlike previous times, which were just remembrances that I could choose to bring out, this one comes out of nowhere and hits me in the face. I don't know what sparks it. I am pulled under and into this nightmare I don't recall.

_I am in a hospital bed. There are nurses buzzing around me. I am scared, but I can't remember what of. "Where is Mommy?" I ask in the high-pitched voice of a child._

_"I'm right here, sweetie," A woman with pretty black hair says as she pushes past a nurse. A name comes to mind- Marie. Her eyelids are puffy and red, and there are mascara tracks running down her cheeks as if she's been crying. She takes both of my tiny, childlike hands in one of her warm, olive colored ones. "Everything's going to be fine, Alfie. That horrible man will never hurt you again." A sense of terror runs through me at the mention of the man, whoever he is._

Her blindingly white smile is the last thing I see before I pull out of the flashback, so many unanswered questions on my tongue. Why was I in the hospital, and why had Marie, a foster mom I only had for half a year, seem so worried about me? And above all, who was the man we were both so afraid of?

I surface out of the darkness of my mind to find myself trembling and sweating, mumbling things I don't even understand. Artie's hand is on my shoulder, but even that isn't enough to comfort me. "What the hell just happened?" I ask.

I look around, but my friends are just as dumbfounded as I am.

 

**Arthur**

 

I'm worried. Alfred tells us about what happened and he tries to seem calm and cool like he normally is, but I've known the guy since the beginning of the school year. I love him- I can tell that he's really freaked out right now. He doesn't know what's happening, or why, and I can't do anything to stop it.

I start to feel the pull of depression and the feeling of uselessness again, but this time I ignore it. Alfred needs my help, and I can't get distracted.

I let him lean on my shoulder, my arm around him. It's an interesting feeling, holding up a much bigger guy, his head buried in the crook between my neck and my shoulder. I realize that this is what Alfred must have felt that day Mother died, when I used him for comfort. This is how we work- constantly holding each other up, supporting each other in times of distress or anxiety.

Alfred curls up on the sofa, clinging to me like I'm a giant teddy bear. He eventually begins to snore, and I look down at him. He looks so cute and innocent when he's asleep, not talking or laughing or yelling.

I look over at everyone else and realize that Feli has fallen asleep holding hands with Ludwig, who is snoring slightly. Antonio is asleep against Lovi, who though his cheeks are burning red is making no movement to push Antonio off.

I arch an eyebrow at him. "Fuck off," He mutters, and I grin.

"You can't escape the shippers," I say, trying out one of Matthew's tumblr terms in an attempt to be lighthearted.

He snickers. "Damn, it's weird to hear you say that," he says.

I glare at him teasingly, finally feeling the laughter seeping back into me, bringing me back to complete normal for the first time since my mom died. Alfred's kiss sucked out all the grief I've been feeling and made me feel needed again while this easy banter with Lovi is restoring my sense of normalcy. After all, since I met the guy I haven't been able to get through a day without some kind of cursing-filled conversation with him. While we were waiting for Feli to wake up he wouldn't talk at all except to bark at the nurse. I missed our little arguments then- I missed all of my friends' normal attitudes while Feli was unconscious.

As _Midnight_  (what is arguably one of the best Doctor Who episodes ever) winds down, I feel myself nodding off. My mind makes weird connections when it's tired, and I find myself thinking about how it was kind of like Alfred's voice had been stolen when he was having those flashbacks, just like the Doctor when that thing was in Sky Silvestry's body.

The last thing I remember hearing before slipping away is Dee Dee reciting a haunting poem-

" _We must not look at goblin men_

_We must not buy their fruit_

_Who knows upon what soil they fed_

_Their hungry, thirsty roots?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marie is Seychelles. When Alfred was five, she was one of his foster parents. She really cared about him, but was forced to give him up when her job took her to France.
> 
> And yes, they're all freaking Whovians. *wipes cheerful tear from face* I'm so proud of my boys.


	6. i'll be ready for the funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short...I had writer's block for a while.
> 
> Also I apologize ahead of time for the horrible mess and the crappy writing on this chapter. Don't worry, I promise it'll get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from "The Funeral" by Band of Horses.

_"Home is behind, the world ahead,_

_And there are many paths to tread_

_Through shadows to the edge of night,_

_Until the stars are all alight..._

_Mist and twilight, cloud and shade,_

_Away shall fade! Away shall fade!"_

_-J.R.R. Tolkien_

 

**Feliciano**

 

A few mornings later I wake up to the sound of Ludwig entering the room and find that Antonio, Arthur, and Alfred have left. Lovi's laid out on the sofa. He's scrolling through the channels on the TV and grumbling under his breath, while Ludwig has a container of bratwurst in one hand and a dry-cleaned suit in the other. Alfred hasn't had another episode (he and Arthur went on their first date last night, on fact) and we're still all waiting for Lovi and Antonio to get together. I smile- everything's getting back to normal.

"What's the dry cleaning for?" I ask Ludwig, swinging my legs off of the bed. He looks somber- I swallow, my smile fading.

"You've been discharged, Feli. Victoria's funeral is today. The Kirklands insisted on waiting until you got out of the hospital." He carefully lays out the suit on the end of the bed.

Oh. I squash my feelings down, pad over to the sofa, and sit on Lovi's stomach. He grunts. "Dammit, Feli!" He mutters.

I laugh. We're twenty and I can still annoy him like when we were in elementary school.

"Git off uh me," he hisses, and I slip off, grinning. I no longer apologize profusely whenever I annoy someone- I've grown out of it, matured. Now I find fun in getting on my brother's nerves.

"It looks like you're back to normal, eh?" Arthur says. He and Alfred have entered the room while I've been busy antagonizing my brother.

"Yeah, amico," I say. I let my emotions trickle back in, my grief over Victoria coming back. I'm actually quite upset over her death- one, she's my aunt, and plus, Ludwig and I spend half our weekends over at her house, so she and Alicia are kind of like second mothers to me. 

I fall back down on the sofa next to Lovi and start to bawl. I can't contain it anymore.

"Ludwig, why does stuff like this happen to such nice people?"

"Don't know, dude, but the sooner we get out of this the better our lives will be," Alfred's voice says, and I feel comforting hands on my shoulders. I look up and find Ludwig standing behind me, massaging my shoulders. I smile feebly and stand up, grasping Ludwig's hand.

"I can do this," I say despite the sadness gathered in my heart and I grab the suit from the bed, ready to make it through whatever grief this funeral throws at me.

 

**Arthur**

 

After the funeral, Alfred begins to perk up a bit. He turns to us, a happy light forming in his eyes. "Mattie and I want to invite you guys over for a New Year's Eve celebration. We thought that everyone could use some cheering up. It's gonna be us, and our parents, and the Beilschmidts, and the Kirklands, and the Vargases, and Roderich, and Elizaveta, and whoever else I can think of by tonight." He rattles off all their names in one unbroken stream.

"What?" I sputter, "I never agreed to this!"

He pouts at me. "C'mon, Artie!" He whines, "It won't be any fun without my boyfriend!"

"Fine," I mutter, my cheeks turning red.

He grins and wraps an arm around my shoulders. a jolt of energy goes through me. "That's perfect, Artie," He says cheerily, and I realize why I agreed so readily.

I'm worried about him. I'm worried about a repeat of what happened the other night when he went into that state and I couldn't get him out of it.

"Sure we'll a-come, Alfred," Feli says, "All three of us. We'll even bring along a-Gil if you want."

"Thanks, dude!" shouts Alfred, grinning. "Brofist!" He and Feli fist-bump.

I exchange a look with Romano that says something the lines of ' _the idiots'_ as Antonio walks up. Then, to Romano's infinite embarrassment, Antonio says, "Hey, can I get some of that?", and fist-bumps Feli and Alfred. Antonio is seven years older than me (five years older than Lovi) yet he's acting the same way as Alfred and Feli- Like a fourteen-year-old Tumblr-goer. What does Feli's younger sister call herself again? Oh, that's right- a "fangirl".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amico is Italian for friend.


	7. my head's underwater but i'm feeling fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party goes off without a hitch. That is, until Alfred collapses suddenly and without warning, leaving his friends scrambling to help him and find out what's wrong. 
> 
> Title is from "All Of Me" by John Legend.

_"Now, we're back to the beginning_

_It's just a feeling and no one knows yet_

_But just because they can't feel it too_

_Doesn't mean that you have to forget_

_Let your memories grow stronger and stronger_

_'Til they're before your eyes..."_

_-Regina Spektor_ , The Call

 

" _Rise to the top of the world, America_

_America, don't you cry_

_Lift me up_

_Give me the strength to press on..."_

_-Imagine Dragons,_ America

 

**The Next Day, New Year's Eve**

**Ludwig**

 

Feli and I arrive at the house and are greeted by an over-excited Alfred. Even I am surprised by how much work Alfred, Arthur, Madeline, Francis, and Matthew have put on the house. Arthur's been hanging out with the Jones/Williams/Bonnefoy house a lot lately. Same thing with Peter- Arthur and him have been fighting a lot less lately. Alicia's been living with the Vargases.

But I digress.

The house is cleaned spotless (well, what we could see at least. Alfred's room is always off-limits to everyone except for the family. Oh, and probably Arthur). The house looks like my side of Romano Vargas and I's room in the dormitories. I have a sneaking suspicion that Alfred's room looks like Romano's side of the room, though.

Feli links his fingers with mine as we are guided down the hallway by Alfred, who has on a grin as big as Feli's as well as vocal chords to accompany it. I feel Feli's warm breath against my shoulder as he leans into me. His breathing stutters a bit and I wrap an arm around his back, supporting him. I frown slightly. He's mostly okay, but there have been times today while we've been getting ready for the party when he's gone pale and his breath has quickened.

His heartbeat pounds against my skin as we enter the main room, where nearly everyone is gathered. Gil, Roderich, and Elizaveta are still missing, but everyone else knows that Gil normally arrives fashionably late and he tends to drag his best younger friends along with him. I spot Antonio sitting with Romano, who's a melting pot of emotions both good and bad, and Alicia, whose features are set in stone, as if she will crack if she lets anything in.

Alfred jumps up on top of the coffee table like a child. "Alright, everyone," He announces, "You guys can just hang out and stuff until 11:30. We'll all make it back here by then so we can watch the ball drop."

Gilbert bursts into the room, Elizaveta and Roderich trailing behind him. "ZHE AWESOME ME IS HERE!" He shouts, "NOW ZHE PARTY CAN REALLY START!"

Everyone bursts into laughter as Alfred jumps down from the table and heads back over to us. Arthur pops up, a slightly worried look in his green eyes, and I realize that he's just as concerned about Alfred as I am about Feli. Actually, we're both concerned about Alfred and Feli, but we obviously show more of it to our respective boyfriends.

Alfred, being the completely oblivious American he is, doesn't catch either Arthur or I's worried looks. He grins, his sapphire eyes joyful underneath his glasses. "Hey, dudes, how you been?" He asks, looping an arm around Arthur's shoulder. Arthur smiles.

I, on the other hand, cringe at Alfred's bad grammar. Being a regular American, he's bound to have bad grammar sometimes, but  _dear Lord_  does it annoy me how often it happens.

"Just fine, Alfred," I reply, not mentioning Feli's breathing attacks. I talked to Arthur over the phone this morning and he said he thought that any major emotional changes could trigger an another episode of whatever Alfred's going through. He asked me to be careful when talking to Alfred, and I'm trying to help however I can. I hate it when any of my friends get hurt.

"Sounds great, dude!" Alfred exclaims. "Now, if you don't mind I'm going to go get some punch and talk to Madeline." Then he swings around, still with Arthur next to him, and sets off for his mother.

Alfred and his mother have a complicated relationship. She gave him up when he was a baby because she didn't have enough money, but she almost immediately regretted it. A year later she married Francis and Matthew was born six months after that. Alfred, on the other hand, was shuttled from foster home to foster home until about a few years ago, when he was sixteen. He emancipated himself and went to live with his friend Mathias. He lived there until the summer before senior year of high school, when Mathias had to move to Europe to be with his family. But Mathias told Alfred that his friend Gilbert's friend Matthew had offered to let him live with his family, provided he help with the rent. Alfred, of course, said yes and the next day Mathias and Gil took him to the Williams/ Bonnefoy house. Matthew greeted them at the door and welcomed Alfred in. Once inside, Matthew's mother came to meet the man who would be living with them. The story goes that she dropped the plate of food she'd been holding in her shock at seeing the face of her eighteen-years ago boyfriend staring at her from her front porch. She later said that she'd known as soon as she's seen Alfred that her baby had finally come home. She ran to him and hugged him, causing him to drop the bag of clothes he'd been holding. "Alfred!" She cried, "I never thought I'd see you again!"

"Um, excuse me?" He asked, "How do you know me?" Matthew, Gil, and Mathias were gaping at the small Canadian woman who was hugging Alfred as if her life depended on it.

And then she explained as Francis, her husband, came into the room. As soon as he heard who Alfred was, he clasped the young man's hand in his and told him that he could live with them for as long as he wanted.

Alfred didn't know what to do. For all of his life he'd gone without a family, and now he suddenly had a mother, a stepfather, and a brother, all of whom welcomed him in like he had just been missing for a few hours.

But he eventually got settled, and when he got accepted to college Francis declared (very dramatically, with tons of emotion) that he was going to pay for everything, as he felt he had to make up for the first seventeen years he hadn't been there for Alfred.

So therefore Alfred and his mother have an...interesting relationship. He called her Madeline (mom or mother would be too weird), but everyone can tell that he loves her to no end. We all love Ms. Williams, just like we do Alicia and...Victoria. I shake my head just slightly to rid my head of such thoughas.  It's still a bit too early to be thinking about the wonderful, intelligent, not-afraid-to-reprimand-her-son's-friends British woman without grieving.

"Well, c'mon, Ludwig," Feli says, standing up and stopping leaning on me. "Let's go mingle!"

And so I let myself be dragged along by someone nearly half my size to go talk to people I barely know. Love is strange like that.

 

**Arthur**

 

Though I'm perfectly content to stay at Alfred's side, I know that look in his eyes and I can tell why he's going over to Madeline. He never told her about what happened that night in the hospital,  when he had that episode, and it looks like he's finally going to tell her.

I peel myself away from under his arm. "Here, Alfred, I'm going to get us some drinks." Then I head off to the kitchen.

In the kitchen I find Matthew hanging out with Esperanza, the girl who just moved in next door to the Jones/ Williams/ Bonnefoy house. I'm pretty sure he has a crush on her.

They stop talking as I enter. "Hello, Arthur," Matthew says politely, unlike Alfred. You know, I sometimes wonder why it was Alfred I fell in love with. Alfred and I are complete opposites, while Matthew's just like me (he's my best friend).

"G'evening, Matthew," I say as I open up the cupboard and grab a cup. I know this house like my own- I spent Thanksgiving, a bloody lot of weekends, and all of Winter Break so far here, "How are you doing?"

"Fine, thanks," He replies.

I open the fridge and smile when I see the iced tea. Alfred stocked up on my favorite drink. I grab the tea and pour it into the glass. "How are you, Esperanza? " I ask.

"Bien," She replies with a smile.

Oh, that's right. Her family moved to America from Mexico three years ago (and to Alfred and Matthew's neighborhood in October), so she's bilingual. Simple questions like 'How are you?' she's more likely to answer in Spanish.

"I'm glad you're feeling well," I reply, and put the tea back in fridge. I pick up my tea and take a sip.

Esperanza smiles. "So you British people really _do_ do that thing where you stick your pinky up in the air when you drink tea?"

You know, I can see why Matthew likes her. She's smart and she has a kind of regal beauty, with a sloping nose, high cheekbones, flawless olive skin, long dark hair, and warm brown eyes. If I liked girls in that way, I just might have a crush on her as well. Well, maybe.

Then suddenly a crash sounds through the house. I barely manage not to drop my glass."Alfred!" I hear Madeline scream, and I throw my cup into the sink (I don't think it broke, but I don't really care to make sure). I run out of the kitchen, down the hallway, and to the living room where I find Alfred collapsed next to the sofa, curled up into a ball with his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. He's muttering again, calling for his daddy and crying quietly.

I walk over, kneel down next to him, and wrap my arms around his trembling shoulders. What the _hell_ is happening?

 

**Alfred**

 

_I'm five again. I'm in a car, belted into a carseat. No, not belted in-tied in with a bungee cord around my small waist. My throat is sore from screaming, my back's on fire with agony, and tiny wrists smart from pain. Rope burn?_

_Over the sound of intense, heavy breathing in the front seat I can hear the distant sound of police cars as they get closer. They're getting louder and louder and my tears come harder and harder, flooding down my face in an endless flow._

_"Daddy? Whadiz happening? Iz Marie coming?" My high, childish voice asks. The fear in my voice is palpable. I'm not sure what I'm more afraid of- the man in the front or the police._

_"It's fine, Al," the man in the front replies coldly, but I hear the slight shakiness in his voice. The light from the dashboard faintly illuminates his knuckles, which are gripping the steering wheel so tightly they've turned white._

_The sound of a helicopter's rotors chops through the night, the engines humming overhead. "WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED!" A voice booms, like in those old cop movies Miss Natalya liked to watch when I was four._

_"This is the end, Al," The crazy man in the front- probably this 'Daddy'- says quietly, and stops the car. He gets out, hands behind his back, fiddling with something._

_"PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!"  
_

_I hear a single sob- not 'Daddy's'- and then a click. Then a boom is heard and something dark splatters the windows. I scream, a high, reedy sound, and don't stop even when the nice man in a police uniform picks me up. Every other part of my body is frozen save my mouth, and that is going at full capacity.  
_

_I glimpse a corpse on the ground as the man carries me away, and I shut up as I realize what happened.  
_

_The man who was driving- 'Daddy'- shot himself. It was_ his _blood that hit the windows._

Suddenly, the scent of gunpowder and fear was replaced by the smell of old books and Earl Grey tea, Arthur's signature smell, and I latch onto it to pull myself back to the present. My voice breaks as I whisper "Arthur" like a lifeline, like I'll shatter if he lets go of me. I reach for him, and start to cry, not caring if anyone else sees me like this. Something happened when I was a child, something involving a man I referred to as 'Daddy', and I _can't_ _even remember it._

Something's wrong with me, and I have no idea what.

I'm cracking,

F

  A

    L

      L

        I

          N

            G,

               and shattering into a million pieces of broken hope. 

And I have no idea how to get back up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What does Earl Grey tea even smell like? I have no idea.
> 
> Okay, so I'm sorry if I misrepresented PTSD in any way. I, thankfully, have had the luck never to have it, and if something was written wrong about the disorder I'd like to officially apologize for it now.
> 
> Alfred had a traumatic experience during his childhood that was so traumatic that his brain forgot the memory. He's getting pulled into flashbacks in the reverse order of what they originally happened in.


	8. we all need somebody to lean on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is from "Lean On Me" by Bill Withers, which by my own authorial authority I have declared this story's theme song.
> 
> Let me rephrase that. This fic has two theme songs. That and "Monster" by Imagine Dragons, which I recommend putting on a loop during flashback scenes with Alfred and the suicide scene with Arthur. It's a very powerful connection.
> 
> ('Cause I'm just that sappy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please go back and reread the last chapter and Alfred's flashbacks. I've made changes so that it reflects Alfred's father's personality better. These changes will make more sense in the next couple of chapters (or whenever Alfred's next flashback comes into the story).

_"Where I go you will go_

_You never leave me_

_When I'm lost there's always hope_

_In every high, in every low_

_You're standing next to me_

_In the fire there's always hope..."_

_-Hillsong_ , Always Will

 

_"It may sound absurd but don't be naïve_

_Even heroes have the right to bleed_

_I may be disturbed but won’t you concede_

_Even Heroes have the right to dream_

_And it's not easy to be me..."_

_-Five For Fighting,_ Superman (It's Not Easy)

 

**Arthur**

 

Watching Alfred is heartbreaking. Normally he is so strong, so confident, the hero of the room, but now he is shattering and just like before I can do nothing to stop it. This isn't like Feli, a physical wound a hospital can heal; this is a raw, primal hurt that is breaking Alfred's mind.

He sobs into my shoulder and I rub his back, tracing soothing circles with one hand while running my fingers through his hair with the other. It takes me a few minutes before I can calm him down, and then I realize that the room has been absolutely silent for the past few minutes, ever since Alfred first collapsed. I'm the only one who's moved, who seems to have any idea what to do. And _I_ don't even have any idea of what I'm doing- I'm just trying to comfort the guy I love. Nothing else besides Alfred is on my mind.

He still clutches with one hand at the fabric of my right sleeve as if I am an anchor to this life, but he leans back and tries for a weak smile and I am powerless to keep from returning a sad version of it. His grins, even when he's been through hell, are infectious just like Feli's smiles. My heart twists as I see his red rimmed eyes as he looks up at me. Combined with that fragile smile they make me want to sweep him up into my arms and hug him until he's better (even though he's way bigger than me, and I can barely tough my fingers together when wrapping my arms around his well-muscled abdomen).

I grab Alfred's hand and help him up. He's very conscientious of appearances, and I know he doesn't like looking weak to his friends. He'd rather them see him as a strong hero, someone who can protect and lead them. He gets to his feet, his legs shaking only slightly, and I realize with a sinking heart that there's no way to ignore it this time, to avoid mentioning it to others and pretend it didn't happen. **All** of our friends and family (even my brothers Alistair, Dylan, and Oliver, who returned from university in the U. K. to attend Mother's funeral and celebrate Christmas with Alicia,  Peter, and I) saw it this time, and no number of brave faces can convince them otherwise.

Then, someone else finally decides to move.  Madeline walks up and places a hand on Alfred's shoulder. He flinches involuntarily at her touch, and the corner of her lips twist slightly downward as she realizes that the only person her son didn't flinch at the touch of is me, a boy he just met a semester ago. "Alfred?" She asks, "Are you okay?"

He takes off his glasses, and wipes the lenses off with the bottom of his shirt. I recognize it as something he's prone to do when he's nervous. Then he places them back on his nose and swallows. He bites his lip, trying to keep from crying. I realize with a start that I'm able to read all of Alfred's tics and figure out what's wrong with him- I know him _that_ well. "I'm fine, dude," He replies, and none of us bother to point out that Madeline is a girl, not a dude.

Madeline smiles wearily, and everyone else takes that as a sign to go back to what they were doing. A murmur rises up around us, quickly turning into a dull roar.  Madeline turns to me. "We'll leave this for tomorrow, Arthur, but for tonight you two should head up to Alfred's room and hang out there. Lord knows he needs to get away from the chaos of a New Year's Eve party and," She locks eyes with me, giving me a you-hurt-my-son-in-any-way-I'll-kill-you look, which is quite unnecessary as I'd never break Alfred's heart or hurt him like my father did my mother. "I  _know_ you two wouldn't think of doing anything stupid just because you're alone."

I smile and nod, giving Alfred's hand a reassuring squeeze. I'm struck by the irony of the situation- normally it's Alfred doing this for me. "Yes, Mrs. Williams," I say, "Don't worry, nothing will happen. " Alfred's obviously a bit out of it right now, and he's normally oblivious anyway, do he doesn't notice the little silent exchange Mrs. Williams and I have. We both know that something is seriously wrong with Alfred's mind (well, not necessarily wrong but at least _broken_ ), and that I'm going to spending the night here to make sure nothing else happens during the night and to comfort him.

Alfred and I head upstairs, and I prepare myself for a long night. I have a feeling that even though it's his mind that's hurting, not his body, this will be just like when I was a kid and Dylan (the youngest of my older brothers) came into my room after being hit by my father. He was fourteen that last year we lived with my father, and my father started beating him when he was thirteen. I suspect that if we had stayed in Britain he would have started on me too when I got older. My mother was brave coming to the U.S. in order to escape my father's drunken wrath. But as I was saying, I have a feeling that comforting Alfred will end up being a lot like comforting Dylan. It makes sense, as they're both the guys I love most in my life (though obviously a different kind of love), and they've both been through so much.

***

The next morning I wake up in the top bunk of Alfred's bunk bed. Yes, he has bunk beds- don't tease. It was a childhood dream of his to have them, and Matthew was getting rid of his just when he first met Alfred. It ended up working out perfectly on both sides. But as I was saying, I wake up in the top bunk in my jeans and one of Alfred's old t-shirts on.

No, nothing like _that_ happened, unlike all my friends who are constantly talking about that kind of stuff. I'm not ready for that yet, and neither is Alfred with his mind in its current fragile state. I don't think that he's ever done It before, but if he did, well, I love him no matter what's happened in past. He loves me despite what I've tried to do. I just didn't have pajamas last night and Alfred lent me an old Coldplay t-shirt of his.

Now, I can't deny that I didn't enjoy sleeping in the same room as Alfred again (I hadn't since before winter break began, since our last night in the dorms) and listening to his snoring as I fell asleep (I swear there is nothing about him that I don't find attractive), as well as sleeping in a t-shirt that carries the faint scent of McDonald's and Old Spice deodorant. Normally I'd avoid both of those scents- they usually also carry the smell of desperation with them- but together they help make up that undeniable scent that is Alfred, and I love it because it is him.

I climb down the ladder braced against the side of the bunk bed. I reach the floor to find a slumbering Alfred sprawled across the bed, tangled up in his sheets. I smile at the familiar sight. While I am a quiet sleeper,  barely moving at night, Alfred tosses and turns. One day I even found him turned 180 degrees _in his sleep_ with his head at the other end of the bed. Surprisingly, though, I'm a light sleeper and Alfred's a heavy sleeper. I'm pretty sure that he can sleep through a hurricane.

I spot his glasses on the pillow next to his head. I swipe the glasses and move them to the bedside table so that he doesn't accidentally break them while sleeping. Then I bend over and give him a quick, gentle kiss on the forehead. I slip downstairs and find Madeline making pancakes, as expected. You know, she's quite a smart, nice person just like her son, but they both have a small problem in common- they eat waffles and pancakes for every breakfast everyday, along with genuine Canadian syrup. Yes, it _does_ exist. For once that may be more than just a stereotype.

"How is he, Arthur?" Madeline asks, hovering over the pan with a spatula as she waits to flip the pancakes.

"He's fine," I reply as I sit down on a stool at the kitchen counter, "He went to bed pretty quickly last night after we went upstairs, and he's still asleep."

She flips a pancake, gives the batter a quick stir, and then turns to me. She raises an eyebrow and fixes me with one of her pointed looks. " Did anything happen between you two last night,  Mr. Kirkland?"

I roll my eyes. That's another of Alfred's signature American moves that I've picked up. To my chagrin, I become more disrespectful and American-like the more time I spend with Alfred. "I held his hand as he fell asleep, but nothing like _that_ happened." I slip into the familiar name for her I've been using for the past week and a half. "You know me, Madeline- am I really the type to do something like that?"

She shakes her head, smiling. "You're too British for that."

I hear footsteps on the stairs, and Matthew's face pops up at the door to the kitchen. "Are those pancakes I smell? " He asks, his nostrils flaring as he takes in the smell of breakfast.

I chuckle. There are only a few things that get Matthew excited - pancakes, hockey, and Esperanza. "Yes," I say, "Your favorite food in the world. Just come over and sit down while we wait for your mom to finish cooking breakfast. " He walks over and plops down into a seat next to me.

"Al still asleep?" He asks.

"Yes," I say, "Still snoring away."

"So, did you guys do anything last night?" He asks when he sees my shirt.

I throw my hands up in the air. "Bloody hell, why does everyone assume that?"

He raises a blond eyebrow. "Probably because you're two college boys who have liked each other since September, had a trying evening, and slept in the same room last night. You're also wearing his favorite shirt. Oh, and Elizaveta has been my friend since sixth grade. I have been forever tainted."

I sigh. "Well,  we didn't. I have boundaries, Matthew." I straighten my posture. "I am a gentleman."

Madeline serves up pancakes on two plates, plunking the Canadian syrup on the counter in between us with a smile. I know she's been listening to Matthew and I's conversation and that she's probably picked up on the fact that we're dancing around the real problem here- Alfred's breakdown last night.

 

**Alfred**

 

I wake up to the sound of muffled conversation downstairs and the smell of pancakes cooking and tea boiling. I smile. Madeline and Matthew are so Canadian.

I peel off my cocoon of sheets and slide out of the bed. Wait a moment. Where are my glasses? I could've sworn I put them right next to me... I spot them on the bedside table and realize what must have happened. Just like so many previous nights, Arthur must have moved them over to table after I fell asleep with them in a spot they could have gotten smashed.

Anyway, I grab my glasses and put them on. I head for the door, but I stop as soon as I realize that all I'm wearing is a pair of boxers. I quickly grab a shirt from my drawer and slip on a pair of jeans, my cheeks burning at the thought of what would have happened if I'd gone downstairs wearing only what I'd had on.

Then I head downstairs, taking the stairs two at a time. It's an old habit of mine to do that when I'm excited instead of going down slowly like a normal person.

I reach the kitchen and find Matthew and Artie sitting there at the counter eating Madeline's pancakes, complete with special Canadian syrup. "Hey, dudes, did you save any for me?" I ask.

Artie sighs at my use of such blatant American slang, but it's in a you're-annoying-but-it's-kind-of-endearing sort of way. "Come sit down, Alfred," He says, and pulls out a stool for me, smiling his small mischievous smile, "We're having pancakes."

" _Again_ , Madeline?" I say with a grin as I walk over and sit down, "Do you and Matthew ever eat anything else for breakfast?"

"Hey," Matthew says between bites, "Don't diss the pancakes."

"Pass me the syrup, Artie," I ask, and we spend awhile talking about everything save what happened last night at the party.

Eventually, it gets to be too much. After I finish off my fourth pancake I push back my plate and cross my arms. "Now, c'mon, guys," I say, "Stop dancing around the problem. I know you guys care about me and don't want me to be upset, but I remember what I went through last night. I remember-" My voice cracks here, "-How broken and afraid I felt. That's not normal. I want to know why these flashbacks (I know they're not dreams; they're too intense for that) are happening to me, what happened to me when I was five."

A loud silence follows my words, a pause where no one moves or speaks.

Then Madeline flips the last pancake onto a plate and then rinses the hot pan in water. A small cloud of mist billows up. I can tell she's trying to figure out what to say. "Your father," She says, and the sudden stoniness in her voice sends a cold trickle down my spine. I feel Arthur stiffen next to me. Due to his personal experiences, he has quite strong feelings whenever bad fathers are mentioned. 

"What about him?" I ask quietly, the sudden urge to not be as loud as normal overwhelming me.

"I looked back at your records when you moved back in, Alfred, and there was a case file that caught my attention," Madeline says, not exactly meeting my eyes, "When you were five, you had a guardian named Marie Dubois. She was preparing to file for adoption for you when you were at the mall one day and you guys stopped at a Dairy Queen. She sat you at a table and went to get your ice cream. She was only gone for a minute or two but when she got back you were gone. She called 911 and using security cameras, witnesses, and other evidence they found you a few nights later in a car with your biological father driving down the highway. The police took you to the hospital and she met you there. You had countless small injuries, but no one knew what happened in the days you were gone. You wouldn't talk about it, and Marie later told police that it seemed like you had somehow deleted the memories from your head. Like I said, she was going to adopt you, but her job took her to France. However, she did make sure you were left with Otto Beilschmidt, the father of your two friends. You lived with him for a few years, but I don't need to tell you that. You know the rest."

I am floored. This is the reason that I'm getting these flashbacks, why I'd called that man Daddy. He'd been my biological father, who had apparently kidnapped me. But the pain in my wrists, those wounds I was treated for in the hospital- what had happened in between the time I was taken and the time I was rescued? And why didn't Madeline bring this up any time during the past two years?

Artie lets out a small hiss of pain, and I look down at my left hand to realize that at some point while Madeline has been talking I've grabbed his hand and am squeezing it tightly for reassurance. For him or for me, I'm not sure. Either way, I let go. A pang goes through me- I feel much more comfortable holding Arthur's hand than being anywhere else.

Artie frowns, raising an eyebrow, and I have to admit that I find him cute- no, handsome- even when he's upset. "What happened to the biological father?" He asks.

Putting the word 'biological' in there makes him sound distant, unconnected to me or Madeline, like some stranger I've never met, but from my memories and the look on Madeline's face he's someone much more than that- much more dangerous, that is. He d snatched me away from Marie, all those years ago, and somehow hurt me so badly I ended up in the hospital. I clench my fork tightly in my right fist, my anger channeling into my grip on the innocent piece of silverware.

" **He died,** " She replies in a voice devoid of emotion, almost like a computer, and I realize that once upon a time, long before she met Francis, she must have loved the man we're talking about. It must have shattered her heart to be dumped by him, and after she'd healed it must have broken her heart to find out that he'd tracked down her son (who she'd just gotten back after seventeen years apart) and hurt him, though no one knew how.

Artie sips his tea, sticking out his pinky finger. His hair is messy in a cute way, and his green eyes are as sharp and piercing as ever as he analyzes the situation, certainly doing a better job than I am with my suddenly stuttering mind.

"Ms. Williams, " He says, suddenly all prim and properly British-sounding, "What do you propose we do about the situation?"

Madeline raises an eyebrow, and the stone mask that covered her face for that dreadful moment cracks and slips away like it was never there. "And why do you suddenly sound like the adult, Mr. Kirkland?" She says, a familiar amused lilt to her voice.

Arthur blushes but doesn't falter. "I _am_ the gentleman in the room, Ms. Williams," He says, smirking.

Matthew and I's heads swivel back and forth between the two as if watching an intense tennis match. I've gotta admit I'm proud of Arthur- though Madeline seems soft, polite, and quiet, she has a tongue on her sharp enough to rival Lovino Vargas himself. The cursing rarely comes out (exceptions are hockey games- I'm actually afraid of Madeline and Matthew then, they get so passionate), but her sharp wit is impressive on a normal day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, nothing like THAT is happening between our two boys. They are above that...
> 
> *snickers* Well, for now.
> 
> JUST KIDDING. I don't write smut. Sorry to disappoint!


	9. i'm the man who can't be moved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I wrote this chapter because I think this is how the world sees us Americans- that some of us are heroes like Alfred, and the rest are obese warmongers.
> 
> Also, the last chapter is not done. I just wanted to get this in quickly. The last chapter should probably be done soon, in which case this particular note will probably go down.
> 
> Dear Lord, this scene is so cliché. I'm getting so sappy. I'm sorry, I just wanted to show that Feli has really devoted friends (not that we didn't know that already), and that you really shouldn't mess with my baby.
> 
> Title is from "The Man Who Can't Be Moved" by the The Script.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never been in college, so if this is nothing like what it is really like then I'm sorry- I only have experience with high school and below.
> 
> And once again, William is one of the very few OCs in this story. He is not a character you know and might have loved- feel free to want to murder him. In fact, be my guest.

_"I did it all_

_I owned every second_

_That this world could give_

_I saw so many places_

_The things that I did_

_Yeah, with every broken bone_

_I swear I lived..."_

_-OneRepublic,_ I lived

 

_"On this day I'll finally listen to what's been calling me_

_All it takes is letting go of whatever people think of me_

_This way I'll stand out and break away to be free_

_Happiness is something I can't live without..."_

_\- Keke Palmer_ , Stand Out

 

**Feliciano**

 

We go back to the campus a few school a few days later. It's the Sunday before school starts again, so we pack up Arthur's minivan (a gift from Alicia last year) and the five of us- my brother, Ludwig, Arthur, Alfred, and I- pile in. Well, it's supposed to be the five of us, but Antonio climbs in at the last second and squishes into the back to talk to my brother.

I don't mind Toni's mindless chatter (I do the same thing), but even I can tell that they both like each other. It's as obvious as Alfred and Arthur had been, and only the two in the back seat can't see it. I exchange meaningful looks with Arthur, Alfred, and Ludwig as Antonio ends up falling asleep (again) on Lovino's shoulder. My brother's face is tomato red.

"C'mon, dude, just kiss 'im already," Alfred complains from the passenger seat. Though considerably shaken up after the New Year's Eve party, he's back to normal now.

Lovino's face, impossibly, gets even more red. "Shut up, bastard," He mutters.

I grin at Ludwig. "He never changes, does he, Lud?" I say, and my boyfriend nods, a smile in his eyes but not on his lips, but that's just one of the many things I love about him.

We reach campus and file out. Well, I say file but it was more of Alfred jumping, Arthur being a gentleman and offering to help the rest of us, me running and shouting in excited joy, Lovino grumbling, Antonio babbling, and Ludwig stepping out with a practiced stride. Not exactly uniform (order wasn't even part of the equation), but my friends' diversity filled me with pride all the same. I loved them, each and every one of them, in their own way, and I'll never regret my decision to protect them from William and his cronies.

"Hello, little Italian," A cold, familiar voice said, and I froze beside Ludwig, my back to the approaching college students, my fingernails digging into his well-muscled arm.  _No,_ I thought,  _Just stay away, please. I don't want to deal with you again._

"William Blake," Alfred says just as coldly as he steps around from the back, where he was helping unload our bags, "Just the man I  _didn't_ want to see."

"You talked," William hisses, and I turn around to see his beady, dark eyes glaring at me with a particular venom I haven't seen before. His red hair is windswept like usual, and he's wearing a black muscle shirt underneath of a torn black vest as well as a pair of blue jeans and black combat boots. As always, he has a pair of cronies behind him, like a nasty double shadow.

My breath hitches, a slight ache returning to my chest. I hate William Blake like I have never hated a person before- I nearly _died_ because of him.

You know, I will honestly admit to being afraid of many things. Spiders, heights, enclosed spaces,  _War and Peace,_ death, Ludwig leaving me, and so much more. I used to be dead afraid of William Blake (downright terrified, in fact), but after going through so much over winter break- nearly dying, Victoria's funeral, and Alfred's breakdowns- I'm no longer afraid of the bully. Yes, the thought of him makes me clutch Ludwig for safety because of the horrible memories attached to his name, but I am not  _afraid_ of what he can do anymore. I have an amazing brother who will kill anyone that tries to hurt me, friends who will support me no matter what, and one heck of a boyfriend who will help me up when I'm down. Take that, William Blake- I have more than you ever will.

"You know, Mr. Blake," Arthur says, and I look over to see him casually leaning against the car door yet somehow maintaining that impeccable British posture. He's examining his nails almost casually, but the intense sound in his voice makes William's fists clench at his sides as if he's expecting a fight. He won't get one, I don't think- Arthur's not one for physical violence. He's never been, ever since his father handled his family that way when he was a kid, "I expected better from Alfred's fellow Americans. Maybe I was mistaken. Perhaps he is just a gem among swine, or perhaps-" Arthur looks up and fixes William with one of his famous green-eyed glares full of hatred and anger, "-You're just a low-bred, unwelcoming, **absolutely disgusting**  exception to the generous America I've come to know and love." He tilts his head toward William's 'shadows'. "Your 'friends' as well, Mr. Blake."

"How...how dare you-" William sputters, stumbling back a step in shock.

"Oh, he dares," Alfred says, stepping up next to Arthur and I. "You are one horrible dude, William Blake. As Artie said, you make all of us Americans look bad. You're mean and rude and **You. Hurt. Feli**." He drops those last three words like grenades, each one full of enough hatred and disgust to blow up Hiroshima and Nagasaki again. He's so angry it seems like his glasses should be doing that shining thing that happens in anime when a character gets peeved off.

That rush of pride I felt earlier returns tenfold as I see my friends standing up for me. Antonio and Lovi join us, and Lovi's face is red with anger. "You bastard!" He shouts so loudly I swear the entire campus hears. "Where the fuck do you come off thinking you can fucking hurt mi sorello?"

William's in full retreat now. I am lucky enough to have two of the sharpest mouths (Romano and Arthur) and two of the strongest guys (Alfred and Ludwig) on campus as my friends, and William's afraid of that. He's so used to only having to deal with me, a complete weakling, and his too-vastly-inflated-for-his-own-good ego likes that, but at heart he's a coward and he can't deal with having to fight opponents as strong (especially stronger) as he is. He's mostly too worried about protecting himself rather than gaining vicious pleasure from watching a kid get beaten up.

He runs, followed by his cronies, and I feel like I'm flying, like I've been wearing a lead coat all year and it's just been lifted from my shoulders.

Then my breathing screws up the moment. It grows more labored, my heart rate speeding up. I stagger, clutching Ludwig's arm, trying to catch my breath. The moment passes quickly, however, and I regain normalcy, but not before my friends have surrounded me, anxiously asking if I'm okay. I shake them off with a big, genuine smile. I know that if I get hurt or have a breathing attacks then I'll have them right beside me to support me and pick me up when I fall.

"C'mon, Artie," Alfred says, stepping towards his boyfriend. His eyes go back to normal,  losing their angry sheen, and his normal grin pops back onto his lips, "Let's take our bags to our rooms." He grabs his suitcase and Arthur's, leaving the Brit to grab the snacks. Arthur does so with an irritated sigh, grumbling and following after Arthur who is practically skipping his way to the dorms even with two heavy suitcases in his hands. 

"I svear, sometimes I just don't get zhose Americans," Ludwig says, staring off after the odd pair like Lovi and I are doing. Antonio is too busy off munching on a tomato to pay any attention to Alfred and Arthur.

"Well, I need pasta!" I shout happily, my breathing fine. I feel great, the only thing missing from this perfect day some pasta.

The whisper of a smile graces Ludwig's lips as he sighs at the same time, the irritation of my pasta obsession, in his words, "only endearing you to me more".

 

**Arthur**

 

We reach our room. Alfred charges in but I pause at the door, closing my eyes and drinking in the familiar scent of our shared room. It's been two weeks since I was last here and a lot has happened since then. _It's good to be back_ , I think, as the smell of hamburgers, sweaty clothing, old books, and cologne (though not a lot) permeates my nostrils.

" C'mon in, dude," Alfred says with a laugh, "There aren't any monsters hiding under the beds."

My green eyes snap open to find Alfred haphazardly throwing his clean clothes into his dresser, a stubborn twist to his features as he tries to stuff all of his clothes into the drawers.

I sigh good-heartedly and enter the room, bringing in the snacks. I give a slight smile as I see that Alfred left my suitcase on my bed before starting to unpack his stuff and deposit the snacks on top of Alfred's book shelf. You'll be surprised to find that there really _are_ books on Alfred's book shelf. Mostly sci-fi, fantasy, and college textbooks, but there are a couple of British classics there. He and the rest of my American Lit teachers insist _To Kill A Mockingbird_ is a classic, but I just don't see it. I mean, how can you compare this 300 page book written in Southern dialouge to such classics as _Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, Great Expectations,_  and Dante's _Inferno_? (Yes, I know _Inferno_ was Italian rather than British but it's still a classic.)

"Still protesting _To Kill A Mockingbird_ is a classic, Artie?" Alfred asks, catching me staring at the bookshelf again. 

I harumph and turn around. "It's not. It's barely fifty years old and is nowhere near the caliber of _Jane Eyre_." 

"Take that back, bro," He says, glaring at me, but it's hard to take him seriously considering the fact that he's smiling- and that he used 'bro' in that sentence.

I smirk and walk over to my bed. I unzip my suitcase and start getting out clothes as I talk. "You wish, Alfred. It's just the truth, plain and simple."

A pillow hits me in the back. "Oi!" I shout, dropping the shirt I was holding, and turn around to find Alfred right next to me, smiling.

He leans over (Dear Lord,  sometimes I really hate that he's taller) and lands a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Aw, Artie, you're so cute when you're angry," He says, and my anger melts. It always does. When it comes to him, I can never stay permanently angry. I can only muster up a half-hearted sigh of irritation.

He grins even wider. "Ya know I love annoying ya, dude," He says, ruffling my hair like I'm a child and not his boyfriend.

"But I **don't** love your atrocious grammar," I say. "Or your weird alien obsession."

He laughs. "Of course you do-" Then his eyes widen, his face going slack. "Ah, shit! I forgot about Tony!" He runs over to his bed and grabs his stuffed animal alien. It looks like the classic Martian (well, for non-Whovians), with wide oval-shaped red eyes, long arms, an oval-shaped head, and green skin.

I try to resist the urge to laugh but can't succeed. "Your love for that alien defies all logic, Alfred. It's amusing. You know he isn't real, correct?"

Alfred gasps. "Artie..." He pouts, cuddling Tony in his arms,  "What if I said that about your magical 'friends'?"

"Oi!" I cry, throwing a hand across my heart dramatically. It seems I have adopted some American traditions since I've lived here, such as a certain flair for the dramatic, "That's just low, Alfred."

"Whatever you say, Artie," He says, smiling. _I swear,_ I think, _does he ever stop?_

 _Yes,_ the dark side of my mind whispers _, remember New Year's Eve?_

I bite my lip, trying to shake the memories of the feeling of hopelessness I experienced that night when Alfred was going through that flashback. Arthur drops Tony on the bed and heads over to me. He places his left hand on my shoulder and lifts my chin up with his right so that our gazes lock, my sharp, poisonous green with his wide ocean blue. I notice now something that I didn't before- the blue of his eyes is cracked, flawed, as if the eyes really are the windows to the soul and the brokenness is seeping through. They're still perfect to me, though. Alfred is beautiful in spite of his flaws. Actually, his beauty might actually be partially **because** of his flaws, not in spite of them.

"You okay, Artie?" He asks concernedly.

I smile at him. I don't want him to worry; that's my job. I'm the nerdy, non-social, grump and he's the cool, confident, popular one. I'm fine with that- I've always been. It's the way of things and I'm happy with how our relationship works.

"Yes, you git, I'm perfectly fine," I reply, giving him a friendly nudge.

He grins, nudging me back, and I know I've avoided his suspicion. "Now, Alfred," I say, "Let's get our stuff unpacked so that we can eat dinner with our friends."

He snorts, turning back to his clothes. "How many times do I have to tell you, Artie? You should know after living in the U.S. (the greatest country in the world) for thirteen years that it's lunch, not dinner."

I smile and finish unpacking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a really awesome scene planned for Alfred's next and final flashback, along with some major plot twists, but the plot requires me to advance some relationships before I can do that. So, the (probably) one person who's reading this, hold in there for a few chapters while I set the scene.
> 
> My baby Feli's grown up. *tear* Mommy's so proud of you!
> 
> Also, I love To Kill A Mockingbird. I just have the feeling that Arthur, raised on British tradition, would feel that this book would measure up to the classics of Europe.  
> If I didn't portray Arthur as well as I could have, please tell me. I'd really like to do his character justice and I'm not sure if I'm accomplishing this.
> 
> Please comment and don't forget to leave kudos if you like it!


	10. i'm just the same as i was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is from "It's Time" by Imagine Dragons.
> 
> Do you know how much it's killing me to write filler/fluff? I'm dying over here because I can't write and add in my third flashback scene, which is a lot different than the first two. I'm really proud of how it's going but I have to write this stinking fluff first.  
> I freaking hate writing filler. Filler is the bane of my existence, but it's necessary for writing. So I guess this little rant is an apology of sorts for any filler/ fluff I may end up writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally brought in some Spamano and explained the back story. Yay!

_"It's amazes me how easy it is for things to change, how easy it is to start down the same road you always take and end up somewhere new..._

_It's never occurred to me before; I've never been able to see it._

_And it makes me feel, weirdly, like all of these different possibilities exist at the same time, like each moment we live has a thousand other moments layered underneath of it that look different."_

_-Lauren Oliver_ , Before I Fall

 

**Ludwig**

 

"So-" Alfred says, chewing a cheeseburger from his seemingly endless stack, "Do- _garble_ \- like- _garble_ \- Professor Heracles?"

"Dear Lord, Alfred," Arthur says, rolling his eyes as his eyes as he daintily picks up a scone, "Is it possible for you to swallow that food before you talk?"

Alfred swallows, grins, and picks up a cup of soda with a straw sticking out of the top. "Is- _slurp_ \- this- _slurp_ \- better- _slurp_ \- Arthur?" 

Arthur sighs irritatedly while Alfred grins even wider and goes back to eating knowing that he's won this battle. I can tell from the look on Arthur's face that he simultaneously loves and is infuriated by Alfred's quintessential American stubbornness. 

Next to me Feli happily eats an enormous bowl of pasta. Just like with Alfred, I am still confused as to where he puts it all if not _more_ confused. Alfred's tall, with plenty of muscle, so he needs the carbs and proteins,  but Feli's small and lanky. He probably has a fast metabolism and the pasta feeds his endless optimistic energy, but Verdamnt, that's a LOT of pasta. In between bites he alternates chattering on at me and Lovino, his excitement boundless. 

On the other side of him sits Lovino, grumbling about having to sit at a table with "a bunch of fucking sophomores". However, I notice he makes no complaints when Antonio sits down next to him, but Antonio doesn't take notice, just goes on happily chewing a raw tomato.

it's very obvious to everyone save Antonio and Lovino (just like Alfred and Arthur) they like each other. It doesn't matter that Antonio's five years older than Lovino; in fact, the age gap is the reason they first met. When Lovino was eight Antonio babysat for him and a six-year-old Feli. According to Feli, Antonio is the only person who has ever preferred Lovino over him. Feli's fine with that- Lovino had been less grumpy and more open back then. Feli thinks that Lovino developed a crush on the older boy when Gil had been bullying (he'd been a huge jerk back then, I'll be the first to admit it) Lovino and Antonio had swooped in and saved him, giving Gil a good tongue thrashing that had sent him home with his tail between his legs.

Then Antonio's parents moved an hour away and the half-Spaniard and Lovino didn't see each other again until Lovino's freshman year, when Lovino had arrived to find Antonio there painstakingly trying to work on his college degree. He couldn't afford to take more than a few courses each school year. 

However, Antonio's finally graduating this year. They both are- Lovino with a major in Business Management and Antonio in Music Education.

"Oh, c'mon, just get the dudes to kiss already," A feminine voice whispers behind me, giggling. I turn to find a girl with short blond hair, glasses, and a short skirt whispering with a friend and giggling while both watch Lovino and Antonio. She looks familiar- How do I know her?

Suddenly a clunk echoes as someone's cup drops onto the table. I turn to see Alfred standing up, slack-jawed with a mixture of embarrassment, shock, and anxiety painted onto his face. 

"Amelia?" He shouts. I don't think he means to, but his naturally booming voice carries, "Is that you?"

She looks up and I realize with a jolt that I know her ice blue eyes. "Alfred!" She cries with a grin, "I haven't seen you in so long! How are you-" Her eyes catch on Alfred and Arthur hands, which are entwined together, and her voice dies quickly in her throat.

"Fine, Mel," He replies, her nickname slipping out without warning.

Arthur's poison green eyes focus on the two of them, but it seems like even he, with his amazing wit and mind, cannot see what connection they have, what they did together. "Who is this fine lady, Alfred?" He asks, his brows knitting together as a half-hearted smile of politeness begins to grow on his face.

"Just an old friend," Alfred says hurriedly just as Amelia says, "Old girlfriend."

Alfred's face instantly goes more red than Lovino's has ever been as Arthur whips around to face Alfred, the half-smile sliding off of his face to be replaced by a look of shock mixed with a frown. I can see him wondering- _wait a moment. I thought Alfred was liked boys. Has he been lying this whole time?_

Alfred, surprisingly,  reads Arthur's emotions quickly. Maybe he's not as oblivious about Arthur as he is with the rest of us because he's in love. "I'm bi, man, don't freak!"

"I'm not 'freaking', Alfred. It's just that I didn't know that you used to have girlfriends. It's fine with me- I don't care. You're my boyfriend now, and I'm happy to be with you."

"AWWW...!" Amelia's friend squeals. Her friend is Asian, with a pink dress with long pink sleeves, "He's so sappy!"

Amelia flashes her a look of annoyance and turns back to Alfred. She slaps a hand on his shoulder. "I'm happy for you, Al. I hope you dudes have fun together." She winks and lets go of his shoulder, then grabs her Asian friend's hand and runs off, leaving behind a shocked Arthur and a kind of sick-looking Alfred. A long time ago, when Alfred was going through a phase where he was denying to himself that he really liked boys, he'd been with Amelia and he'd done some stuff that he really regretted. He'd broken up with her soon afterwards and they'd parted friends (Amelia was having a sexuality crisis of her own), but he preferred not to remember those times.

"So, Al," Antonio says, "Care to explain to us who this 'Mel' is, and who that girl with her was?"

"That was Xiao Mei," Alfred explains, "She and her father moved here from Taiwan four years. She and Amelia have been together since shortly after she moved here."

I can tell he's trying to avoid the first question, to delay the moment in which he'll have to tell Arthur what he used to be like. Even though he loves Arthur dearly (though he'd probably never say 'love'- that wouldn't seem heroic), he's probably worried about how Arthur will take it.

"Here, Arthur," Alfred says, taking Arthur's hand and dragging him off, "I want to set the record straight."

From the look on Arthur's face he was reading way too far into what Alfred had said and totally taking it the wrong way.

 

**Arthur**

 

Out in the hallway he tells me the truth about his and Amelia's past relationship. 

"So you slept with her?" I repeat incredulously after he finishes, trying to absorb the information. My normal word filter is broken with my surprise.

"Yeah. It was a long time ago and I don't have feelings for her anymore, trust me," Alfred replies awkwardly, his words coming out in a rush. He looks at me with his adoring blue eyes and winks. "I only have feelings for you now, Artie. Please believe me," He asks.

"I don't know, Alfred. I normally wouldn't have cared as much, but you didn't tell me. I'm not sure how I feel about that," I reply. What I'm saying is true- I normally wouldn't care- but I don't like it when people keep secrets from me.

"C'mon, dude, it's not that bad," Alfred pouts.

"Keeping secrets from me is _not that bad_?" I shout, my anger boiling. Thank goodness the hallway is empty or that would have attracted stares. "Was Feli keeping the secret of his bullying _not that bad_? Was your mom not telling you about your dad _not that bad_?" I pause, then I explode. "Was the result of my mom being found by my dad after secretly leaving Britain  _NOT THAT BAD_?"

"Woah, Artie," Alfred says, holding his hands up in front of him in a defensive position, "I didn't mean-"

I turn my back on him. "I don't want to hear it, Alfred. Just give me some time alone to figure things out."

"Please, Artie, you've got to understand," Alfred pleads, and I know that if I turn around and catch a glimpse of his concerned blue eyes that I won't stay angry. And for once, I want to be angry. He's _too_ oblivious sometimes and he needs to learn a lesson.

I walk off back to the dorms, thinking that Alfred will just go back to the cafeteria. As I turn the corner, I duck into a bathroom and wait to hear his footsteps. It takes a while, much longer than I predicted, before I hear him walk back to the cafeteria.

Maybe he _does_ care about me somewhat, enough to hesitate for a few moments. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Cause we all needed some USUK conflict that doesn't make any sense.
> 
> Oh, and I know that for some people, such as my friend, think that two months us too soon for them to be together.  
> To which I replied, "It's freaking USUK! It's as close to perfect as you can bloody get!"


	11. no chance, no way, i won't say it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is from "I Won't Say (I'm In Love)" from the movie Hercules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the USUK conflict, but at least we finally got to meet Francis!
> 
> (Don't worry, I'll resolve it soon... within a few chapters)

_"I never meant to start a war_

_You know I never want to hurt you_

_Don't even know what we're fighting for..."_

_-Jordin Sparks_ , Battlefield

 

_"This is a modern fairytale_

_No happy ending_

_No wind in our sails_

_But I can't imagine a life without_

_Breathless moments_

_Breaking me down down down..."_

_-Silena Gomez_ , The Heart Wants What It Wants

 

**The Next Week**

**Alfred**

 

The next few days pass with me getting the silent treatment from Arthur. He won't talk to me or even look me in the eye. The evenings in our dorm room are awkward, him doing his homework quietly and I playing video games.

I really care about Arthur and him ignoring me is really bothering me. I know he's mad that I didn't tell him about Amelia, but the ignoring me is completely out of character. His normal weapon of choice is his sharp tongue and wit,  not silence.

Though I don't say anything, I'm really sad. I thought we were doing well together, that he felt the same way about me as I did about him. Our dates, kisses, the night he spent at my house after my _episode_ \- I thought they meant as much to him as they did to me, that we shared the same passion for each other.

In other news, school's back on. Arthur and I only share one class, American Lit, so that's the only class he has to avoid me in. He normally sits right next to me but this week he's been sitting next to Kiku and Elizaveta in the back. The only time I see him smile all day is when he's there with them, and it only happens occasionally.

He hasn't laughed since Winter Break and it seems like he's suffering as much as I am. He doesn't sleep very well and he has dark circles under his eyes. He doesn't talk much to anyone- his conversations with Kiku and Elizaveta are mostly Elizaveta fangirling,  Kiku shyly commenting, and Arthur watching quietly. I'm really worried about him. He's not just the guy I like, he's also my best friend. We went through a lot over Break and he's one of the people I care most about in the world.

Yesterday afternoon I started hanging out with Feli, Lovino, Antonio, and Ludwig because Arthur wouldn't talk to me. Today we go to the French café _Mon Cher Madeline_ down on campus. Francis owns it, and it's pretty successful- that's how he managed to pay for Matthew and I's education. It's a pretty nice place that caters to everyone- gay, straight, black, white, trans, female, and male (whatever the heck you can think of). Francis's only rule is that as long as you can pay, you can stay.

That's also how he keeps me and my friends up-to-date on his predictions. You see, Francis has this weird thing that he calls a 'love science' where he can pretty much tell who's going to end up with who as long as he knows both people. He predicted Feli and Ludwig when he met them back in senior year of high school (they'd come to visit their brothers) as well as Elizaveta and Roderich. He's been banking on Antonio and Lovino for a while now, and he's secretly shared his suspicions on Matthew and Esperanza. He's also predicted many other now-flourishing relationships, including Gil and Arthur's older brother Alistair.

He's a great guy, really, even if he takes a strange interest in my friends and their relationships. He's loyal (he'd die for Madeline in a heartbeat), good at making people feel included, and good with emotions. He's really nice to women and men alike, complimenting everyone when they come in his café. Madeline knows he's not flirting (though many people believe he is)- that's just his way of being nice.

Like I said, he's also good with emotions, so when I come in with a frown on my face he immediately takes my arm, drags me away from my friends with a quick _excusez-moi,_ sits me down at a table, and plops a steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of me. Then sits down across from me, props his elbows up on the table, and balances his chin in his hands. "Zo, Alfred," He says in his heavy French accent, "'Ow is your _Cher_ Arthur?"

"Quieter than normal," I reply, and I notice he's hanging onto my every word. That's Francis for you- when it comes to romance, he turns into a giddy fangirl.

He gasps dramatically, his hand flying to his heart. " _Ce est un scandale_!" He cries. He tends to use this phrase a lot to describe pretty much any problem- that's how I know it means 'it's a scandal' in French.

I sigh and take a gulp of my hot chocolate. The temperature doesn't bother me- if anything, the burning liquid sliding down my throat is comforting. "I'm worried about him, Francis. He's not sleeping well and he won't talk to me."

Francis's eyes go wide. "But he is _votre amour_ , Alfred," He says with a voice full of sympathy. 

"Yeah, I know-" I cut off as I digest what he just said in French, "Wait, hey! I don't _love_ him!"

Francis winks, a twinkle in his eye. "Zhat is what zhey all say, _fils_. Do not deny zhat you feel attraction for 'im."

"Yeah, you really do, Alfredo," Antonio backs Francis up as he sneaks up, dragging Romano. Feli and Ludwig know well enough (or in the case of Feli, are just too oblivious) and just stay away.

I look helplessly at Lovino, an unlikely ally, as he's the only person who isn't ganging up on me. His cheeks turn slightly red and he mutters, "Don't look at me, bastard. They have a goddamn point."

I glares at them, imitating Lovino perfectly, inciting chuckles from Francis and outright laughter from Antonio. "I freaking hate you dudes."

Francis smiles, twirling between his fingers some random rose he's found. He has a knack for finding flowers wherever he goes, especially roses. He says they're the national flower of his native France, which makes them the flowers of love, as well as the flower of America and Britain, the nation of my...oh, what do I call Arthur now that he's avoiding me? Is he still my boyfriend? Best friend? Roommate?

I cross my arms, lay them on the table, and dejectedly drop my chin down in the crook they form. I look around, trying to distract myself from such confusing thoughts, but freeze when I find someone I didn't expect. Sitting at a table in the corner with his nose buried in a million page textbook (and I am barely exaggerating here), is a familiar young man with a head of messy fair hair and a green waistcoat.

"Heck no," I mutter, my eyes fixated on the man. Though his face is obscured I know he has sharp green eyes, finely carved British features, large, bushy eyebrows, and _very_ familiar lips.

After a few minutes of staring (I can't tear my eyes away), Francis finally stops babbling on about wine and romance to Antonio and follows my gaze to Artie, who's busy doing his homework, probably with a look of intense concentration on his face. He's probably frowning, thinking about something else, and my heart surges at the thought. He's so cute when he's focusing hard like that.

"Oh," Francis says softly, looking back at my crumpled face, "You 'ave it bad, _mon pauvre enfant_."

"Damn it all, yeah," I groan, burying my face in my arms, "I've had a crush on that dude since the first day I met him. He sauntered into my life, all British and gorgeous and snarky and smart and amazing, and I haven't been able to get him out of my thoughts since."

"You sap," Lovino says roughly, but not meanly. I sneak a peak at him and see him staring at Toni with the same wistful look in his eyes that I see in the mirror when I'm thinking about Artie- absolute longing.

"In zhe country of love, being called a sap is a compliment," Francis comments, smiling slyly.

"Damn _Francesi_!" Lovino shouts and I hear him slam his fist down on the table in frustration. I know Francis, for some unknown reason, annoys the heck out of Lovino.

 

**Arthur**

 

I look up from my book to see what the commotion's about and see Lovino and Antonio standing over a table where Francis and...Alfred are sitting. I swallow heavily at the sight- I miss talking to him so much.

I'm still kind of mad at him, but contrary to what he thinks (I know this is what he thinks; he's told his other friends) I'm not avoiding him. I've stayed in the room every night with him, making sure he's okay and that he doesn't have another episode. In American Lit I don't talk to Elizaveta and Kiku because I'm too busy paying attention to Alfred and watching him.

And before you insinuate that I'm a stalker, I'm not. I'm just making sure that the man I care about is okay.

One of the major reasons I'm giving him his space is because I feel like I've been taking up too much of his life lately. I spent nearly every waking moment over winter break with him and I feel like he needs to spend time with his friends. I've spent the past few days studying a lot more than usual.

But looking over at him, his back hunched and his face buried in his arms on the table, I realize he's just as miserable as I am. Even the cowlick in his hair is drooping, and he doesn't seem to care about the fact that his glasses could crack while they're being smashed between his face and his arms.

Well, at least he's not crying and broken like at the New Year's Eve party. I never want to see that happen again.

I mark my spot in the textbook with my note card, close the book, and carefully slide it into my satchel in between my American Lit and Abstract Algebra (Worst. Bloody. Class. Ever.) textbooks. I drop my pencils into one of my waistcoat pockets and grab my tea. I'm getting out of here before I cave in to my longing, go over to their table, and sit down in the seat next to Alfred.

A wave of guilt hits me as I cross the threshold of the café. I want to stay with him _so_ badly but I also want him to have some time alone with his friends without depending on me. Here, I'll explain tonight in the dorm and hopefully he'll understand. Maybe he'll get that I was mad at first (quite mad, in fact), but then I just kept up the act to give him some space.

Oh dear Lord, I hope so. I miss his happy, confident energy so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French translations:  
> Fils- Son  
> Votre amour- your love  
> Ce est un scandale- it's a scandal  
> Excusez-moi- excuse me  
> Mon cher Madeline- my dear Madeline  
> cher- dear  
> Mon pauvre enfant- my poor child
> 
> Italian translations:  
> Francesi- frenchmen


	12. taken away to the dark side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Arthur's section, the italics are what Alfred thinks he's seeing.
> 
> Title is from "Riptide" by Vance Joy.  
> NOT DONE YET!
> 
> CHARTER 13 COMING FEBRUARY 18TH!

" _Regrets collect like old friends_

_Here to relive your darkest moments_

_I can see no way, I can see no way_

_And all of the ghouls come out to play..."_

-Florence & the Machine, Shake It Out

 

_"If I told you what I was_

_Would you turn your back on me?_

_And if I seem dangerous_

_Would you be scared?"_

_-Imagine Dragons_ , Monster

 

**Alfred**

I peek at Arthur as he walks by with his backpack slung over his shoulder, biting his lips and looking like he's frustrating over some important and incredibly distressing problem.

And I can't take it anymore. The waiting, the silence, the avoiding each other. I'm tired of hiding- It's not the hero-like thing to do. I stand up and drop a dollar down on the table. "Here, Francis," I say, "This is for the coffee. I'm going after Artie."

I exit the café to cheers from Francis and Antonio. I ignore them, just as I always do, and walk out. I don't see Arthur so I head towards the dorms as that's where he's most likely to be.

As I pass by the library, I hear someone say, "Yo, Jones. Did you think I'd let you off like that?"

I stop and turn to find William Blake walking up to me, an unpleasant snarl on his face. "What do you want, William?" I growl, unable to keep the hatred out of my voice. 

"You need to learn a lesson,  you worthless ball of nothing."

I grin. Hanging out with Artie and Romano has given me a respect for good insults, and laughter for bad ones. "You're gonna have to try harder to scare me, William."

"Well," William blusters, "You're a useless faggot. Everyone hates you. I'm betting even your mother hates you."

Those insults would have been just as crappy normally, except-

_"Your mother hates you, Alfred."_

I sink to the ground, throwing my hands above my head to ward off an attack. 

 _A fist connects with my face, resulting in a flash of pain and heat_.

And broken images start flashing through my mind.

 

**Arthur**

 

I hear a commotion off behind me, and hear the voice of William Blake. I turn and run back. That creep is hurting someone else, and after what happened to Feli I'm not letting him hurt someone again.

My eyes widen when I see what's happening and my vision goes red with anger. Alfred is hunched on the ground with his eyes half open, his hands held above his head to protect his face. He's shouting, but talking with a childish taint to his voice.

It is like a child's soul is stuck in Alfred's body, using his voice and eyes but with childish inflections.

William leers over him, kicking him in the side.

_The man, who says he is my father, kicks me in the side._

_I can only whimper in pain._

Normally Alfred would have kicked William's ass to kingdom come, so this is just another sign that something is wrong.

I rip off my satchel and chuck it into William's side. He falls over and when he sees the murderous look on my face he runs. I must look fiercer than I thought, but that doesn't matter.

I bend over next to Alfred. "Alfred," I say, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Are you still in there?"

_My father's leather-clad hand hits my shoulder, leaving an angry red mark. "That foster mother was an idiot," He growls, "You need to be properly disciplined._

"Get away, Fwather!" He cries, slapping my arm away.

_"You insolent child, " He says, and his hand swings down again._

He shouts in pain and curls up on himself, clutching at his side as if someone has physically hurt him. My heart hurts- I can't stop this.

_His eyes flicker between blue and green as he leans down to grab my tiny arm and yanks me up from the floor_

_"We're leaving, Alfred."_

_He says my name like a curse word, like something dirty. He looks at me as if I am scum barely worth it to step on._

He looks up at me with unseing eyes that are slowly filling with tears. "D-Daddy?" He asks as I gently take his hand. I curl his fingers into a fist and clasp his hand in both of mine, "Where are we going?"

"I'm here," I whisper, "Don't worry, Alfred. I'll never leave your side again."

_His features flicker. Someone familiar replaces him for just a second, someone with worried green eyes and kinder features. Then he shifts back, hard replacing soft and cold replacing warm._

_"Let's go, Alfred," He says, a hollowness in his dark blue eyes._

"Pwease, no! Stwop, daddy, don't hurt me!" Alfred screams, and his grip on my hand tightens to a vise.

_My head is slammed into the side of a car, and darkness crowds my vision._

_He takes me and secures me in my carseat._

I lean in and, steadying his arms, touch my lips with his. It's gentle and delicate, like a whisper at night, with merely a shadow of warmth being exchanged in the cold January air.

I lean back. "I'm sorry I left you, Alfred. I..." I take a deep breath, preparing myself. "Well, I bloody love you."

_Something warm presses against my lips, and the image of my father flickers out. A pair of emerald green eyes shines out of the darkness._

_"I bloody love you, Alfred."_

_A name connects to the face in my mind._

_Arthur._

He looks up at me with clouded eyes. "I love you too," He whispers weakly, and then collapses in my arms.

I lean his head up against my chest and run my finger through his golden blond hair. I can't carry him- I'm not strong enough. Eventually someone will come along and can help me. But for now I just want to hold onto him and keep him close. He doesn't deserve to be weak and alone ever again.

Of course this is the moment in which Lovino and Antonio turn the corner and find us curled up against each other. "Antonio!" I shout out, "Help me out!"

They run over to us and for once Antonio reads the situation perfectly. He carefully picks Alfred up from my arms. He has to tug a bit, as my fingers are unwilling to give him up, but Lovino gives a rare display of sympathy and puts a hand on my shoulder. I let go and Antonio silently walks off to the dorm, a frown on his face.

I guess this is a strange day for all of us. Lovino's sympathetic, Antonio's silent, I'm attacking bullies, and Alfred's weak.

I hope it's over soon.


	13. you should know we're not so different at all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For all the Spamano fans who have for some reason clung on until now...these next two chapters are for you.
> 
> Title is from "Not So Different At All" by Max Schneider.
> 
> The whole apology scene is directly inspired by aricasuntoast's story "Arthur vs. W Academy".

_"Tell me what you want to hear_

_Something that will light those ears_

_Sick of all the insincere_

_So I'm gonna give all my secrets away..."_

_-OneRepublic,_ Secrets

 

_"You're not alone_

_Together we stand_

_I'll be by your side  
_

_You know I'll take your hand  
_

_When it gets cold..."_

_-Avril Lavigne,_ Keep Holding On

 

** Arthur **

 

We arrive at Alfred and I's room and the first thing I do is to direct Antonio over to the bed, where he tucks in Alfred. I immediately plop down into the chair next to Alfred and entwine his fingers with mine. Deja vu moment- it's just like the last time this happened.

I look up at Lovino and Antonio, who are standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. "Sit down and talk, guys," I say almost desperately. I need noise, chatter, to get my mind off of the problem, "I need the distraction."

They follow my instruction and sit down on my bed, Lovino grumbling as he does so. I smile weakly- same old Lovino- before leaning over and brushing an errant hair off of Alfred's forehead.

"So, Antonio," Lovino starts off, "The Annual Masquerade down at Town Hall is coming up. You taking anyone?"

"Um, si, Lovi!" Antonio replies. Maybe it's just me, but for just a moment it looks like he's frowning. Then I blink and the frown's gone, replaced by his customary smile. "I've invited the lovely Rosa Silva to the Ball!"

"But I thought you were gay, Antonio," I say, surprised. From the crushed look on Lovino's face apparently he thought so too. Obviously he has a crush on Antonio.

"I am, Arturo, but the person I like has a crush on someone else. That's very fine with me. Plus, I only go to the Ball for the dancing, not the romance. Rosa understands. Her boyfriend Henrique is back in Brazil anyway- she's just my salsa partner at the dance studio."

I know what you're thinking. I'm wondering it too- "So why is there a Ball happening in the twenty-first century? And if it's annual, why haven't I heard about it before?"

"Every fucking year the student government hosts this damn thing," Lovino says, "It's supposed to celebrate the achievements of two 'remarkable students', one male and one female, from the University. This year it's Erika Vogel, that girl from Lichtenstein, and by some complete fucking miracle me."

"So is she your date?" Antonio asks almost nonchalantly, but doesn't quite pull it off. He seems a bit more curious than normal, leaning in slightly to hear Lovino's answer.

"Yeah, fucking unfortunately. I mean she's a damn nice kid and all but I know that she likes that Swiss kid Basch Zwingli. Anyway, I don't like her. I'm hella gay so I'm probably going to get her dancing with Basch early on."

"Oh, right, you're a matchmaker, aren't you?" I ask, "You're the one who set up Feli and Ludwig, right?"

"Si, Arturo," Antonio replies with a grin as Lovino's cheeks turn tomato red behind him, "Lovi's as good as Señor Bonnefoy at setting people up."

"Except for himself, apparently," I say with a smirk. Then I feel Alfred's fingers twitch beneath mine. My breath catches and I clutch tightly at his hand. Lovino and Antonio immediately stop talking.

Alfred's eyes begin to open. I lean over and kiss him on the forehead. His eyes shoot open. "Artie?" He asks, more confused than vulnerable like he was before. It's a good change, trust me, as anything is better than him going into that horrible trance-like state where he confused reality with memory, "What's up?" He asks, sitting up and pulling his hand out of mine. "Why are Lovino and Antonio in our room?"

"Do you remember anything?" I ask.

"Noo..." He pauses, then flinches. "Actually, yeah. My father..." His eyes widen as he notices the bruise on my right wrist. He leans forward and puts his hands on my shoulder. "God, Artie, did I do this to you?"

I swallow. How do I tell Alfred that he went into another state this time, that he hit me and thought I was his father?

He looks me straight in the eyes, his deep blue eyes hard, and his grip on my shoulder tightens. "Artie, tell me the truth," He demands through gritted teeth, " **Was. This. My. Fault?** "

I nod, and his hand slips from my shoulder, his gaze falling away from mine. "I'm so sorry, Artie," he whispers, and I can hear that weakness creeping back into his voice.

"No," I say firmly, and I'm surprised to hear my voice getting loud, "It's not your fault. It's the fault of your father. Whatever he did to you was so horrible that you bottled it up and wiped it from your memory. It was bound to come back at some time and burst out without you being able to control it. You lashed out today because you were threatened and combined with how fragile your memory has been lately, it brought back all those horrible memories. I hold no grudge against you, Alfred. This bruise on my wrist I'm not angry at you for. I hate your father for what he did to you. You've done nothing wrong."

I have no idea where that impromptu little speech came from, but by the end of it I'm breathing hard as if I've just won a marathon and Alfred's sitting there with tears in his eyes. Whether they're tears of sadness or relief I can't tell, as he's speechless, his mouth parted into an O. Suddenly he leans forward and he pulls me into an embrace. "Artie," he whispers into my ear, "I love you. You're amazing."

Then he leans back. "Hey, Artie," He says, his old confident voice coming back. His grin creeps back onto his face, "You wanna go to the Masquerade next weekend with me?"

I throw my hands up in the air. "Am I the only one who hasn't heard about this bloody Ball?"

"Yeah, Arturo," Antonio says, speaking up for the first time since Alfred since woke up.

"Hey, English bastard," Lovino joins in with a look of vicious glee in his eyes, "You do realize that it's a  _costume_ Ball, right?"

"Bloody hell," is my only response as I lean back against the bed post, shaking my head.

"Artie..." Alfred pouts, "We don't have to go. It was only a suggestion..."

"No, Alfred," I say, "It's fine. I'll go. It's just...what will I go as? What will _you_ go as?"

"Well, I do have that aviator's jacket you gave me for Christmas," He says, "And my brother has a pair of aviator's goggles. I could go as a American pilot from World War II." He sticks an index finger in the air as if he'd gotten an idea, a look of childish glee spreading across his face, "I'll be the hero!"

I sigh, rolling my eyes with a smile. You've got to give it to Alfred- he has the ability to get over bad stuff in his life really quickly. He's one of the most optimistic, stubborn people I know. "So what will  _I_ wear, Alfred?"

"Well, you could wear that costume you wore for Halloween," Antonio pipes up. My cheeks go red- last year I came up with my own idea for a costume. "What did you call yourself again?"

"The personification of the United Kingdom of Britain and North Ireland," Lovino answers, grinning maliciously. Dear Lord, sometimes he's my best friend and sometimes I just want to kill him.

"That sounds great, Artie!" Alfred says, and I feel my resolve crumbling. Damn that smile of his...

"Okay, fine," I acquiesce, and Alfred kisses me on the cheek with joy. He grabs my hand as he shifts into a more comfortable position, and I squeeze his fingers. Dear Lord, I am never letting go of him again.

"What will you wear, Lovi?" Antonio asks.

"Just one of my Italian suits. I'm only going to this fucking thing because Feli and Grandpa Romulus guilted me into it. It's not like I'm going to put any extra effort into it." Then he adds (and I can tell he's trying to hide his curiosity), "What are you going to be wearing, bastard?"

Antonio grins. "I'm not telling, Lovi- it's going to be a surprise!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait for chapter 14- it's going to be a special one, with POVs guest starring Lovi and Antonio!


	14. you already have my heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> USUK-centric at first and Spamano-centric later.
> 
> Title is from "You Had Me @ Hello" by Olivia Holt.
> 
> And an apology for Alfred and Arthur's costumes- sorry, I can't resist.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry I forgot to mention this little tidbit- Peter is the child of a surrogate father. He is not related to Edward (too young, right?).

_"You're the only one I'm dreaming of_

_You see I can be myself now finally_

_In fact there's nothing I can't be_

_I want the world to see you'll be with me..."_

_-Train,_ Hey Soul Sister

 

_"Hiding behind a disguise_

_Can you feel me watching you?_

_It's magic then I'm lost in your spell_

_But you don't even have a clue  
_

_That I'm hypnotized yeah_

_I'm drawn to your eyes_

_I just wanna see your face_

_Welcome to my Masquerade..."_

_-Cid Fox,_ Masquerade

 

**Alfred**

 

The rest of the week passes without much happening. Antonio and Lovino are still awkward near each other (we can all see it- bets are being placed on who will admit it first), Feli and Ludwig went on a date to an Italian restaurant, and we started on English literature on Tuesday. Artie was pumped, to say the least. I think the actual conversation that night went a bit like this:

"FINALLY!" He shouts as soon as we get back to the room, throwing his most recent History paper up in the air in excitement, "IT'S ABOUT BLOODY TIME!"

"Geez, Artie," I say, following him in, "I don't think they heard you in _China!_  Could you say that a little louder?" 

He turns around, a huge, uncharacteristic grin on his face. My smile grows- It always makes me happy to see Artie in such a good mood. "Seriously, Alfred, I'm a bit tired of all this American literature. British classics- yes, that's what I'm talking about!"

"It's great to see you so passionate about stuff," I say with a grin.

He sighs. "You carry enough passion for things to support the both of us, Alfred." He raises one of his large eyebrows significantly, "You are a ' _fanboy_ ', after all."

"So are you! What about Harry Potter, Merlin, Sherlock, and Doctor Who? Any of those ringing a bell?"

His cheeks go red, his smirk replaced by a glare. "Oi! Those are masterpieces! Nothing's as bad as Supernatural and _iCarly_."

"You don't make those arguments against Kiku's animes and Mangas. You love Ouran, Fruits Basket, and Black Butler."

And the rest of the conversation continues like this. We must have had this conversation a million times- it doesn't really matter who wins anymore.

Anyway, fast forward to the day of the masquerade. Artie and I are putting the finishing touches on our costumes. He's going as England (great choice- he's a practically a living stereotype of the country), and I've decided (in what has to be a stroke of genius on my part) to go as his 'America'.

He smiles, straightening my tie. "You look great, 'America'."

"Same to you, Iggy," I reply.

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. "Another nickname, Alfred, really? And where did you get this one? It doesn't sound anything like England or Arthur."

"It's some Japanese thing Kiku told me about when I mentioned who we were going as," I say, grinning, "Why? Do you like it?"

"No!" He shouts, leaning back and crossing his arms in defiance, "Dear Lord, no! I can barely stand 'Artie'."

"Aw, you know you love it, Artie," I say, stepping forward and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. As I lean in to kiss him a knock on the door interrupts us. Artie sighs, extracting himself from underneath my arm.

He walks up to the door. "Who is it?" He asks.

"Soy Antonio," The Spaniard's voice says excitedly, "Now let me in, Arturo! I want to see your costumes before I go meet Rosa!"

Artie opens the door. "Come on in, Antonio," He says, and in steps a green-eyed Spanish Conquistador, wearing a red jacket complete with golden epaulets on the shoulders.

"Wow, Toni," I say, "That's an impressive costume!"

"Gracias, Alfredo," Antonio says with a grin.

"Do you think Lovino will like it?" Arthur asks, a crooked grin on his face.

Antonio blushes at the mention of the younger Italian.

"Yeah, I think so," I say with a grin.

"C'mon, amigo," Antonio says, regaining his unshakable attitude, "Nosotros vamos!" You know, in his own way Antonio has just as much flair as Francis and as much swag as Gilbert. It's not a surprise that Lovino has fallen for him, 

(Not that anyone could possibly be as amazing as Arthur- he's perfect)

 

We head out the door and find Rosa leaning against her car. It's a nice dark blue four seater with worn leather seats. As soon as Antonio shows up she flounces over and gives him a friendly peck on the cheek.

"Olá, Tonio!" She shouts happily as I get a good look at her costume. It's a beaded dark green flapper dress, complete with a matching necklace of Mardi Gras-esque beads and a long white feather in her hair.

"Hola, Rosa," he replies, hugging her. He's a physically affectionate person, even more than me. He'd rather hug someone than high five them, and falling asleep on someone's shoulder (ahem) is nothing. He's the most chill guy I've ever met.

(And yet he gets awkward talking to Lovino)

Without stopping their conversation, Rosa and Antonio get into the car. He politely opens the door for her before Artie or I can offer, so we get into the back seat. As the car starts up and begins to drive, I feel fingers entwining with mine. I look over and find Artie holding my hand, his characteristic smirk on his face. I know it's a sign of him being happy and not sarcastic in this situation. Because of his childhood- what he saw his brothers and mother go through- he's grown to protect himself by pretending that nothing fazes him. The only time I've ever seen him show emotion was when he completely fell apart after his mother's death and almost...

Never mind. I don't want to think about it.

"Are you okay?" Artie leans over and whispers into my ear, a worried line forming in my forehead.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, and push a grin onto my face when I realize that I've been frowning.

He raises an eyebrow but let's the matter go. We soon arrive at the Town Hall. As soon as we stop I instantly jump out, not even waiting for Rosa to turn off the engine. I run around to the other side and open up the door for Artie.

He smirks. "How chivalrous of you, Alfred," He says as he gets out of the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Nosotros vamos" is Spanish for "We go".  
> "Olá" is Portuguese for "hello".

**Author's Note:**

> Please give kudos and comments if you like it, or please leave suggestions if you don't.
> 
> I really appreciate CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM!


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